


Your Love Is My Drug

by QueenVulca



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: All Human, Alternate Universe, DUB/CON maybe, Drugs, F/M, Gangster Tomione, Guns, Limes, M/M, drugover induced deaths/coma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2018-11-19 08:32:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11309652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenVulca/pseuds/QueenVulca
Summary: Fight fire with fire, they said. That's the way, they said. So, the Golden Trio is out to do what they do the best. Fight, fight so hard that they get rid of the filth that's killing their city. But doesn't cleaning campaign gets you dirty too? What happens when your dirt stops fights & starts seducing you over to the dark side? Hope they haven't forgotten that dark fights dirty...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **  
>  Today,26.06.2017, is International Day Against Drug Abuse and Illicit Trafficking. And there was a plunny that had been very insistent on being written down. So, I thought this day was a good day to start publishing this story. This is a gangster Tomione. This story will have guns, deaths, DUB/CON, violence, drugs, so many drugs. But at the end of the day, it will all resolve as resolved a gangster lord can get. These are the triggers. So, people, this is the only warning about triggers that you are going to get. I do not encourage drugs or violence unlike how the characters in this story shall act. At the end of the day. Hermione shall do the right thing. Trust her, if not me.**
> 
> **In case, there are limes I will mention it at the start of the story. I have not thought out any lemons for this story. But if I think it's needed (insert: if you guys demand it), then I might add one.**
> 
> **I've thought the update schedule to be of every fortnight. That'll give me enough time to polish the next chapter. This story is around 6-7 chapters long. This is semi-completed i.e that first three chapters are completely done, the rest needs brushing up.**
> 
> **Thanks to my alpha, Puja aka Idris Winchester who has to suffer at my weird plunny induced craziness, WinchesterGranger for the brainstorming sessions and everyone else who has supported me and encouraged me with their favourites, follows and reviews. Thank you so much. I hope you give this story the same amount of love or more.  
>  I will post previews on Tumblr and Facebook group The Death Eaters Express.So, keep your eyes open for them.   
> Any mistake in this chapter is my own. My beta, Sera-Neko Chan, who's a bit busy now, shall get around to whipping them into shape as soon as she becomes free. I couldn't wait (impatient me) to post them.**
> 
> **Okay, QueenVulca out. On with the story.**

* * *

 

"Hey, Hermione! I left the report on the Quirrell case on your desk," Padma said as Hermione entered her office in the morning.

"What do we have here, Padma?" Hermione, the head detective of the Hogwarts City Police, asked sipping on her mandatory morning coffee.

"The first drug overdose case since Myrtle. He was found dead near one of the pubs unofficially owned by the Death Eaters."

"The Death Eaters, huh?"

"Yes, the pub near the High School, The Chalice."

Hermione placed her coffee and took the file in her hands and flipped through it. There were pictures of one dead Quirrell. Hermione stared at the pictures and then at the close ups.

"He didn't die of an overdose."

"What do you mean?" Padma asked curiously since her boss found a loophole in an apparently open and shut case.

"I can't say this with confirmation but it looks like the drug he used was fatal like a fast acting poison. Not your usual slowly-poisoning-you drug."

"So it means there are _badly_ made drugs in the market **and** near a high school?" Padma's voice rose at the end.

"Looks like it."

"Why can't we shut the clubs down? Or- or the black market, raid the badly made drugs and just be done with it."

"Something tells me this will not go down well with the bureaucrats. But… I won't give this idea up until I get a resounding no in my face. We can't let them sell poisons in the name of drugs near a freaking school," Hermione vowed.

Half the day was spent at the forensics' lab. Their toxicologist, Neville confirmed Hermione's doubt. Quirrell had taken improperly made drugs which acted like a fast acting poison.

"You know this is not the first case on my table," Neville said putting the reports away.

"You have seen this before?" Padma asked.

"Last week, I went to the hospital because their toxicologist couldn't identify the poison in some school students' body. Turns out it wasn't poison they were looking for but drugs," Neville explained.

"Padma, get an appointment with Mayor Dumbledore for me as soon as possible. This needs to end," Hermione ordered making up her mind about this.

* * *

"What do you mean you can't stop it? You stopped it the first time alright! What's wrong with this time?" shouted Hermione who was towering over Mayor Dumbledore as he remained seated in his chair.

"Last time, I was just lucky. That's all I can say," Mayor Dumbledore said mournfully taking in Head Detective of the Hogwarts's furious demure.

"That's not what I heard," Hermione snapped as she took up pacing in the Mayor's office.

"It's what people wanted to believe and—"

"And you let them believe that! How are you different from them," Hermione finished angrily.

Dumbledore gave a bitter scoff. "I **am** no different." With a sigh, he said, "I believe it is time for lunch. Please talk to Chief Potter. He can...explain you better."

"This is **not** over," Hermione threatened walking towards the door and slammed the door shut behind her.

Dumbledore turned in his chair to face the curtain drawn, ceiling high windows behind his desk.

"There isn't a day that goes by where I don't wish it could be over. Forgive me, child," he sighed.

* * *

"Wha- 'e ment, 'arry?" Ron said with his mouth full of half-chewed sandwich.

Harry stared at his childhood friend's persistent disregard for the basic table manner. He sighed. Then caught hold of himself. If he didn't, he could end up like their Mayor, the sigher. Harry merely rolled his eyes and joined Ron at their regular table at the bistro near their police headquarters.

"Ouch! That seriously hurt!" Ron exclaimed who had been slapped upside his head for his incorrigible ways by Hermione who joined them just then.

"It was meant to," Hermione replied taking her seat. When Ron shot her an incredulous look, she added, "It's therapeutic too."

"Hey, Hermione," Harry greeted her with a raised can of Coke.

"Good afternoon. Dear, don't you look cheery today," Hermione said sarcastically seeing Harry's downtrodden face.

"Found another high gone wrong case," Harry replied with a shrug.

"Another?" Hermione quipped as she settled in her seat to tuck into her lunch.

"Who's this one?" Ron replied, fun slipping from his mood.

Harry replied, "Remember the young boy who followed me around for a picture for his scrapbook? Creevey?" When his friends nodded in answer, he said, "Found him blue bodied today. Couldn't have been much older than fourteen-fifteen."

"That's horrible," Hermione gasped as she tried to stop herself from showing more emotion than required, her police training kicking in.

"How?" was the only thing Ron asked.

"Somebody must have slipped him a pill to 'heaven'," Harry guessed his mood taking a greater fall.

"This is going too far," Hermione commented.

"And nobody's doing anything," Ron complained.

Harry and Hermione turned towards him.

"What? It is true! You see us doing anything?" Ron snapped.

"Don't lose your bloody temper here, Ron," Harry bit back.

"Oh yeah, that'll solve the problem? If it does, I'll become a bloody silent monk myself," Ron shouted drawing the attention of everyone in the cafeteria.

"Shut up both of you," Hermione snarled effectively shutting them down. "Get your lunch as a takeaway. We need to talk."

* * *

"That's all we do, Hermione. Talk and talk and talk," Harry complained sitting in an old, tattered armchair in the storeroom.

"This time shall be the last of its kind," Hermione replied with conviction.

Seeing her confidence, Harry looked interested.

"So, talk about what? Sports?" Ron said sarcastically.

"No, Mayor Dumbledore told me something told that got my gears running," Hermione explained as she took a seat on a squeaky armchair. "I think the Grindelwald problem was because of him," on seeing Ron's jaw hanging, she continued, "he looked extremely guilty. And it seemed like he was—"

"Hiding something?" Harry added.

"Yes," Hermione replied, excitedly.

"Well, he is hiding. He did share some stuff with me. And I...I decided to check its truthfulness," Harry paused as if collecting his words, "turns out he was. And here I thought he wasn't like the typical politician." Harry scoffed at himself.

"And he told me to gather the info from you. So, spill," Hermione said as she focused completely on Harry.

"He was Grindelwald's lover," Harry blurted out.

Ron spat out his drink and Hermione simply looked like somebody solved the greatest mysteries of all time.

"What do mean, Harry?" Ron exclaimed while coughing to get rid of the liquid that went down the wrong pipe.

"Well, it's pretty clear to see. I mean...given the way he does that twinkle eye thing whenever Kingsley, our boss from Heaven, is around had always made me doubt that man," Hermione explained as she threw herself in flashbacks.

"I don't feel safe anymore," Ron said as he tugged his jacket around himself tightly.

"Ron, you acting like they are rabid weres looking for their next victim to sink their teeth into," Hermione scolded.

"Thank you for your support, Mione," Harry replied in relief.

"You know I hate that nickname, don't you? If you keep doing that you're going to lose the support, Chief Potter," Hermione sassed.

"I am definitely out of the loop, aren't I?" Ron asked confused at the turn of the events.

"You'll go first or me?" Hermione asked Harry as Harry tried to sink into the moth-eaten chair cushions.

"You go," he squeaked as Ron kept swinging his heads to-fro following their verbal tennis.

"Ohkay," Hermione began with a deep breath, "Our dearest, four-eyed menace has decided to come out of the closet."

Ron blinked at Hermione in confusion. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"How are you the best strategist here in Hogwarts? I mean, you don't even try to understand the subtle hints I am giving you!" Hermione huffed.

"That's why you are the head detective and I am the strategist and he," Ron said pointing towards the man whose comb committed suicide at the sight of his hair and continued, "is the chief who keeps us glued and directs the action. I am the heart," Ron said pointing towards himself, "Head," pointing towards Hermione who whipped her hair at it and then Ron pointed towards Harry and said, "Soul."

Harry sported a soft smile now looking adoringly at Ron.

"Well then, our soul is gay," Hermione deadpanned.

"WHAT!" Ron shouted as Harry sputtered, his face turning red as Rudolph's nose.

A knock on the door interrupted their brainstorming sessions.

"Detective Granger's in?"

"Yes, yes. I'm coming in a moment," Hermione replied back loudly. She then added in a whisper, "Okay, today have dinner at Harry's place. Dinner's on me. We will discuss this more."

Ron nodded his head in affirmation while Harry replied with a "You're on."

* * *

This drug problem first started with the rise of Grindelwald. He wanted to control the market shares with his revolutionary "Quick Fix". Marketed as household glue, it was glue like sticky substance that people could easily use or dispose of. Use it as a drug or glue, it was the customer's choice. The legal team that was in charge of looking out for unethical products were in a tight spot. After all, that thing was nothing but a glue which gave you a good high on snorting a considerable amount.

Law's hands were bound and the substance abuse abundant. This product was the brainchild of one Gellert Grindelwald and...Albus Dumbledore. But Albus had confessed, under the burden of guilt, that he had meant them to be for recreational purpose only. He didn't know Gellert would release them in open market for anyone's use.

There were many deaths caused by that substance. It was a hype amongst the youngsters to get a little high in the cool kids' parties. It was a norm. And the Quick Fix was really a quick 'fix' for your high. It gave the pleasure of the condemned 'sugar' without you having to sell your kidney to afford the next fix. Or so they said. The drug was unregulated; its quality was the cheapest.

To make it affordable, the quality went down, down, down. The bucks came in floods and the production was an all-time high. It was only after the incident of Albus' kid sister, Arianna that the first tremor of the problem in production began. Albus, distraught because of his sister's death, chose to shut the business down. There are not many details present in the fight. But what people know was that it was epic. Albus chose to rise above the temptation and took a hard step and single-handedly he brought down his love, Gellert, down. But what he couldn't bring down was the business. The Deathly Hallows or the holy things of death kept the business alive.

Dumbledore formed his own group of specialists to deal with this- the Order of Phoenix. Those people who were once victims of it were now the warriors of the light. But like Hydra, when one of its head was cut down, two rose in its place. Then a couple of decades later came the quiet before the storm. There was no trouble. There was no drug in the market. There was no abusable substance in the market. There was nothing cheap. The cost was so high even the cool kids couldn't afford it.

It was like a utopia for the narcotics department. And that didn't last long.

Soon, there was a Hydra but this Hydra knew what it was fighting for. It knew its way in and out of the law. This was the start of the reign of the Riddle. Tom Riddle. A boy born in the lap of luxury, a hobby formed in the boredom of parental neglect and a personality of the blackest heart. Tom Riddle was charming, handsome and could sway the crowd to his words. He was the wizard of words. But he was not cunning. Smart, yes. Shrewd, yes. But not cunning.

His downfall came in the form of his 'cunning' plan to woo the chemist's daughter to get the chemist to do his bidding. Merope Gaunt was not much to look at. But she had inherited her father's brains, unlike her brother who inherited her father's temper. When riddle wooed her, she found her golden ticket out of the hellhole that her family called home. He was like an angel sent to raise her from perdition. He was her saviour. And she would make him love her for the favour he was doing her.

It wasn't hard creating the strongest aphrodisiac known to man. Since Riddle's men only knew of the fact that Riddle was trying to woo the daughter, it didn't raise their suspicion when one evening they stumbled upon Riddle taking Merope right there in the sitting room. If anything, they discreetly emptied the halls and kept themselves stationed outside. Their master was a private man. He preferred his privacy.

Merope had the best time of her life and as she laid, sweaty and satisfied, on the messed up couch, she planned her next step to show her love for him in abundance. Every night since then was lacklustre for Riddle but was a slice of heaven for Merope. Her 'love potion' was working its magic every night with that shot of whisky Riddle always took before sleep. She fell ill one day and a doubt made her test for pregnancy.

That was the most beautiful moment of her life. She was carrying the heir to the Riddle legacy. She feared his volatile temper and feared losing him, for she knew somewhere deep inside her that a child could not tie this man to her. If anything, he would see the baby as a hindrance. But the heart wants what it wants, so one fine day, when she was into her late second trimesters, she forgot to give him his dose.

Not fully forgot per say, she wanted to see him love her instead of rutting like an animal in heat. But that small yearning of her brought upon her ruins. The concoction kept him active like a life supporting drug ever since she first administered it to him. He felt his heart stutter and fearing his life, he pushed the security alarm. The guards called the ambulance but it was too late for the man who ran Hogwarts from the inside. The guards took pity on the pregnant woman but Riddle's parents didn't. They cast her off on the streets.

Nobody heard of Merope ever since. Nobody knew what happened to the baby. Whether it survived or the cruel world nipped it in the bud.

It took merely took two-decade for the next Hydra to grow. But this one was bigger and better. This was the rule of Death Eaters. Running successfully with an annual revenue of around nine-ten million as recorded by the insider source.

And so goes the story of Hogwarts. An aptly named city. It was a pig's pimple city. Cursed to eternity with the poison created by its only saviour. Talk about irony.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! Thank you so much for your response to this story. It blew my mind to find so many people interested in this story.  
> The schedule is still on. FYI, I'm polishing chapter 4 now. So no worries.  
> My eternal love to Puja 3 and WinchesterGranger who's the best alpha I could get.  
> My beta is busy so any mistake is my own.  
> Hope you guys like this.  
> For previews, sneak peaks and more check out my page on Facebook by the name of QueenVulca. Next preview date: 17th July. Next update: 24th July  
> For now, enjoy the story.

* * *

 

Harry Potter, son of the most prominent police couple Hogwarts ever produced. A protected childhood with a dash of abuse by relatives on holidays. The best sportsman to graduate from the Hogwarts High School and the one with a most promising career,  _just like his parents_. A phrase that had Harry grown an irritation for. The youngest chief ever made for single-handed (it was a team effort, people) lay a crippling blow on the Death Eater empire that kept them inactive for a long time.

Hermione Granger, the smartest mind that Hogwarts ever produced after Rowena Ravenclaw, one of the founders of Hogwarts High School. Born to an upper-middle-class family of dentist couple had seen Hermione grow up in the lap of luxury, the mandatory conferences and emotionally unavailable parents. Hermione had found her refuge in books and that in turn made her a recluse. It didn't help when her wits made her peers feel uncomfortable who then took comfort by bullying her. One day it had gone too far and made eleven years old Hermione bawling her eyes out. Taking a private time in a dark alley wasn't probably the best idea young Hermione had but she did. Had it not been for her occasional bully Ron and his silent accomplice Harry, Hermione could have been killed by the troll of a man or worse, assaulted. That incident had forged a bond and that bond didn't seem like breaking any day soon.

Ron was the sixth child in a household of seven plus parents. Talk about being lost in a crowd. Ron grew up in the shadows of his elder siblings all of them aces in their fields of interest. Even his younger sister, Ginny who is now a successful football player was the youngest brave heart to help the police disrupt a drug delivery in the neighbourhood. And here he was, again in the shadows of a famous best friend and an equally famous detective friend. He was good at playing chess. So he made it his occupation- the star strategist at Hogwarts's Police Department.

The three of them together were called the Golden Trio who could sniff out trouble like nobody's business and solve them with an ease that made buttering a toast difficult task. The department had never functionally so smoothly before the three of them came in. Though Ron still protests that the fame of the department is more because of Harry and Hermione, their colleagues know better.

Most of their weekend was spent at each other's house. Today it was Hermione's turn to entertain her guests. Being the health conscious woman of the modern times, she decided to cook them a good meal of spaghetti and meatballs in a rich sauce. Ron arrived early followed by a grim Harry a few minutes later. Hermione told them to make themselves at home and went into the kitchen to prepare the food.

"What happened, Harry?" Ron asked sensing Harry's glum mood.

"Sirius was admitted to a hospital today. The hospital couldn't contact me earlier because there was no wallet or id on him. Luckily, Neville recognised Sirius as they were wheeling him away," Harry replied in a dejected voice.

"What was Neville doing at the hospital?" Ron asked as he sat on the couch beside Harry.

"He must be visiting his parents in the coma patient ward. Neville's parents were a victim of wrong medication. Or so they say. They were in the police force too. Rumour has it that they were poisoned by the Death Eaters. It didn't kill them but turned them catatonic," Hermione answered.

"So, the list now has Neville's parents and Sirius?" Ron asked shocked that these incidents were hitting a little too close to home.

"Thankfully, Sirius responded to the treatment. So, he isn't catatonic. But it's going to take him some time to recover. No more rave parties for Mr Black now," Harry replied rubbing his face with a hand.

"This wouldn't have happened if the drugs had a quality control on them. And some regulations. Only safe drugs allowed here rule," Hermione snapped as if her chiding would get her suggestions going.

Hermione was best at thinking out plans, Ron could chalk out the weaknesses and the strengths of the proposed plan and Harry was the man who put the plan in action. But at the present moment, Ron simply dished the plan.

"Now that's a stupid idea," Ron commented on Hermione's plan, looking uncomfortable as Hermione's cat whipped at his legs with his tail and hissed at his ankle whenever he wiggled a little.

"Really?" Hermione questioned him not believing that he didn't get the magnificence of this idea. "Do you believe the same, Harry?" Hermione asked while stirring the sauce over the sauce, the other listener sitting on the couch beside Ron looking equally uncomfortable that had nothing to do with the threatening cat.

"Hermione, you are essentially giving them the ticket to Hell," Harry replied trying to make his determined friend see the reason.

"They want to go to hell in a broken-down car that's getting filled up with monoxide as we talk. At least, using my method they can go hell in a hand basket. And happily. Maybe, if we work really well on it, we can help them not be a permanent resident of hell," Hermione tried to explain them in their own metaphor. "Set the table, you two."

"So that can kerb the gangs' business and—" Harry murmured getting up and clearing the table.

Ron interrupted, "and provide safe drugs. Two birds, one stone." Ron got in the kitchen to get the utensils.

Ron tapped at her hand and took to move the heavy pan when Hermione chimed cheerfully, "Three birds," as she turned off her stove and started to take it off the stove,

When the two men gave her a quizzical look, Hermione explained, "We get rich too. This business stinks of money."

"The girl's right," Ron commented as he got a faraway look in his eyes.

"She's hardly ever wrong, my friend," Harry said giving a proud look at Hermione.

Hermione beamed as her brain worked a mile a minute.

* * *

They were not seriously looking at this plan. This was just plan B as long as the department readily took down the people responsible for all these messes of dirty drugs. All was fine on their books until an emergency call for Ron shook their world.

Ron ran down the pristine corridor of the hospital. He skids down one turn followed by a fanatic Harry and equally troubled Hermione and arrived right in front of the room where Fred was admitted.

Molly Weasley grabbed her youngest son in her arms and sobbed on his shoulders.

"Mum, wha' happened?" Ron asked not even caring to form the proper words.

"Fre-Fred. He-he is poisoned!" Mrs Weasley wailed as she hiccupped and cried.

"How? He didn't go to a rave party after I warned him about them, did he?" Ron said somewhat angrily.

"What? No! He took a drink meant for your father. Your father must have the one—" Molly couldn't finish her sentence and started sobbing again.

Hermione went up to her and wrapped her from behind as Harry joined them. Ron looked up and stared straight into Hermione's eyes and nodded. Ron was ready to take the final step to finish this drug problem for once and for all.

* * *

Next few days were spent in planning. And more planning. Hermione dared not to write anything down. Everything that was taking place was verbal. She thanked the heavens above that despite her best friends being lax about school work and studies, they had a sharp mind and a good memory. What motivated them more was the fact that Remus and Tonks Lupin were recently brought in as another case of poisoning. Luckily, James Potter had the sense to immediately get them admitted to the hospital. Now the Weasleys and the Potters found themselves as a semi-permanent visitor to the hospital.

Presently, they were working on raw material provisions when the biggest question loomed over them.

"Mione?" Ron began.

"Don't call me, Mione," Hermione said automatically.

"Who's going to make them for us?" We don't have any chemist for us," Ron said ignoring Hermione's chiding.

"Someone owes me. I am going cash that in now," Hermione answered cryptically.

"And that can't be someone clumsy or second grade. He has to be able to make customised drugs," Harry added as they discussed in Harry's flat, which was the safest place at the moment. Given Sirius', Harry's wild partying godfather, tendencies, the house had unperturbed ambience- thanks to the acoustic cancelling walls. It kept the neighbours happy despite the music beats booming over the speakers late into the night and well into the early morning.

"We'll meet him here at lunch today. I don't think you'll doubt his abilities once you meet him," Hermione answered vaguely regarding the mystery man.

"Assuming the chemist to be competent enough, we have the suppliers sorted and the lab location sorted. Now for the distribution. How are we gonna do that? The Death Eaters are known to eliminate the new drugs from competition and the creators vanished from the face of the earth. How are we gonna take care of that?" Harry posed an important question.

"Mate's right. These people speak the language of guns. Hell, this city is run by the people who have guns," Ron added despondently, bringing into light the dark side of the city he grew up in.

"Well, if that's the case then who's better at it than us?" Hermione answered, frowning as she, herself, thought what she said.

"Meanin'?" Ron asked unable to grasp what Hermione said. Harry accompanied his query with a nod.

"We have been given the guns by the people themselves. We are legally equipped with these," Hermione said bringing out her gun to place it on the coffee table in front of the couch the three of them were squished into.

"We are the real people with guns. Besides, the laws' on our side. Nobody shall suspect us. Nobody can report us. Nobody can bring us down," Hermione said confidently staring intensely at her gun.

This thought gave the guys a food for thought.

"You are essentially telling us to go, rogue," Ron commented when the plan sank in.

"Look at it this way. We are making the drugs safer for the school going students. We are making the drugs safer for everyone. These are designer drugs. These are  **not**  the usual hardcore stuff," Hermione assured them.

Harry was the first to get over the thinking and get to the doing. "So that chemist?"

Hermione looked at her watch which told her it was a good time for lunch.

"Let me order a takeaway. What's for you guys?" she asked taking out her phone to order their lunch.

* * *

The doorbell after merely twenty minutes of placing the order. Ron wanted to dig into his curry right away but Hermione refrained him from doing so. Harry shook his head at one of his oldest friends. Sharp he might be, but in face of food, the sharpest became a caveman- thinking with his stomach only. Ron had completely forgotten about the guest they were supposed to meet today. So now he cursed the lunch guest who seemed late in his eyes.

The doorbell rang and Ron leapt out of the couch to open the door, only to shut the door on their guest's face.

Harry looked on, confused, while Hermione quickly ran towards the door opening it to welcome a tall, almost lanky man with a pale face whose shoulder-length black hair acted as a veil around his head. His hawk-like black eyes were fixed on the ginger haired man who was losing his pallor at his sight. The man turned his head to sneer at Harry down his hooked nose and when he faced Hermione again he gave her the bleakest look and offered the most forced greeting ever heard in the history of greeting.

"You called?" Severus Snape as he tried to bore into Hermione with his undisguised glare.

"Please come in. We can talk after lunch," Hermione said as she smiled politely at Snape. Hermione reasoned that even she would be glaring if somebody shut the door on her face after inviting her.

"And that lunch had to take place  _here_?" Snape drawled in his typical silky baritone. Gods, Hermione loved that voice but the person who had it needed a  _severe_  personality improvement.

"Acoustic walls," Hermione replied as she guided the man inside to towards the dining room through the sitting room.

Harry and Ron were in an intense whispered conversation that was slowly losing its whispered part. It seemed like there was a quick game of rock, paper, and scissor that Harry won and then pushed Ron forward to face the lioness who was escorting the grumpy raven.

Ron coughed subtlety one or twice but that didn't seem to draw Hermione's attention towards him. Then he coughed out loud like a man possessed which surely got everyone one's attention.

"It seems like your friend is in a desperate need of a cup of ginger tea. Please see to him. It would not do me any good if he were to happen to die of asphyxiation just in order to get some attention." Snape sneered.

"Yes, profess—Severus," at Snape's instant glare, Hermione corrected her slip.

Hermione walked out of the dining room accompanied by Ron and they left Harry and Severus in the same room. Harry would choose to face a band of gun-wielding thugs any day over being in the same room as Severus Snape. That man hated his guts.

 _'_ _What was Hermione thinking when she decided to include this man in their atrocious plan? It was one thing for the three of them to go rogue. But including Snape in this was a bad idea,'_  Harry thought.

"I can hear your gears running right from here," Snape said looking at the grown man who was showing him his back- uncomfortable to face him. "I don't bite."

"Umm…sorry for making you feel animosity." Harry took a deep breath and continued, "Hermione hasn't told you anything yet, has she?"

"She was very vague about it," Snape answered after a thoughtful pause.

Harry nodded in reply.

"But him? Of all people? You chose him?" Ron had long since forgone whispering.

"We needed the most competent person for this." Snape heard Hermione's heated whispered after straining his ears.

"Him?" Ron was positively whining now.

"Oh! Grow up!" Hermione huffed loudly and Snape heard her footstep which announced her arrival.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Hermione said apologetically. "I'll serve the food just now." And she got busy serving the steaming food.

The lunch was a sombre event. Ron didn't dare to chew loudly or talk with his mouth open. Seeing his drastic change of table manners, Hermione wished Severus would accompany them for every meal. Maybe after today's 'meeting', this could be a possibility. The meal ended and soon the four of them retired to the sitting room nursing their bowls of vanilla ice-cream with a generous helping of warm brownies.

"As much as I appreciate today's lunch, I would like the suspense to be over with. You have fattened the scapegoat. Ask your sacrifice now," Snape said bluntly seeing no point in dragging the matter on.

Hermione blushed enough to make a tomato feel inferior.

"Nothing to sacrifice actually, other than your time," Harry said giving Hermione enough time to gather her bearings. Ron wisely didn't add anything.

"I am listening," Snape replied.

"You know how hard it is to make people understand to stop taking those faulty 'fun' drugs," Hermione slipped into her lecture mode, "It is even more hard to stop the supply, given rich hands that smoothed the way. So we decided to join the fray. We'll introduce our drugs at cheaper cost and way, way more safe than the shit that they already take. That way we are controlling the market and the people. Once we get the insider details of this, it won't take much time to obliterate the Death Eaters."

Snape hummed and said nothing else. The three of them stared at Severus' pensive face as the assumed chirping of the crickets filled the pin drop silence. Hermione had begun to squirm in her seat out of anxiety. Even Harry and Ron didn't look calm.

Snape began diplomatically, "I would be essentially putting my neck on the line if agree to this."

Hermione simply nodded in answer.

"Are you aware of my...status?" Snape asked sceptically.

"I am," Hermione answered.

Snape nodded to himself and replied, "Simple plan. And a natural one too. One that shouldn't make anyone suspect anything. Nice."

Hermione preened under such praises. Getting any good words from Severus Snape was an achievement in itself.

"I assume the production responsibility will be solely mine?" Snape asked.

"If that is what you want. Or else I'll help," Hermione said earnestly.

"You do realise that this is not something that can be done by merely two people if you want your…product to spread throughout the city," Severus pointed out.

"I have a plan for that. But first, we need to test the water and then we'll move to phase two," Hermione replied.

"What this brought this upon?" Snape asked as he watched the other two not take any part in the conversation.

"Fred." was Ron's curt reply.

"Sirius," replied Harry sadly.

"Remus and Tonks too," Hermione added softly.

"They started hitting home, huh? Their folly," Severus commented.

"So?" Hermione asked Snape's reply.

"I have conditions," Severus said taking in the terseness leave the young woman's body.

"I'll draw the contract papers." Hermione nodded.

"You do that." That was all Snape answered.

Ron and Harry merely watched the verbal volley with confusion.

"So, can I look forward to seeing you here on Monday?" Hermione asked trying to clarify the situation.

Snape answered after a pause, "If my lab was been set here then yes, you can."

Hermione gave him a brilliant smile. Snape got up, pushing back his chair.

"I thank you for the meal. It was appreciated. Thank you," Snape said formally.

"The pleasures all mine," Hermione replied, her face giddy with joy.

Snape nodded and started walking towards the front door. Hermione her elbow into Harry's side and he leapt in surprise- seemingly lost in his own mind. Hermione pointedly looked at the door and then Snape. The door then Snape. The door…

When she huffed and glared at him, he suddenly got reminded of his manners. He quickly ran towards the door near which Snape was wearing his black as his soul coat. He smiled the dumbest smile he could muster and opened the door for Snape. Snape looked at him down his nose and sneered and walked out.

Harry shut the door and went to find Hermione was already getting interrogated by his brother by another mother.

"We all know he's involved with the Death Eaters. Are you really going to take this risk?" Ron asked her, his tone soft making him sound as if he was the logical one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review if you please!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Long A/N ahead.**  
>  **Hi once again everyone. I'm back with another chapter of YLIMD. Thank you all for your kind reviews, follows and favourites. Thank you, thank you so much. They have motivated me a lot. I hope you guys liked the preview of this chapter. I post all the previews on my page on Facebook which goes by the name of QueenVulca (creative, I know) and on Death Eaters Express and on Tumblr.  
> **  
>  **My beta SeraNeko Chan who's the greatest beta ever has been busy editing the first two chapters. However, I've been the busy one. Real Life has taken its toll. Author down, I repeat, Author down.  
> **  
>  **Which brings me to the next point that this story is going to be the last that I will be publishing this year of my own. The other stories that will be posted in November or December shall be the outputs of writing challenges that I've promised to complete.**  
>  **That means no Halloween Special Tomione, no Song inspired dark Dramione, no NiightAngeel video No Return inspired Dramione, no AU AH Harmony. I am taking a hiatus. I'm in my final year of college. So please bear with me. By this time, next year I'm sure the stories shall start getting posted again.**  
>  **Which brings me another point that I might post the 4th chapter of YLIMD a week late. I am not sure since that chapter is 1k words short of completion. And the 5th chapter is 2k words short of completion. Also, this story added another chapter to itself. Pssst...It's got a life of its own. The next time I post the preview, I'll let you know if the next chapter will be delayed or not.**  
>  **Like I've said before (allow me to repeat), I will not post any story unless it's complete. That makes you and me both happy.**  
>  **That was a long A/N, but I hope this answers everything.**  
>  **Now, on with the story.**

* * *

Despite what Ron suspected, Severus being an ex-agent of the Death Eaters only helped them. He knew the ins and outs of their business and provided them…abet not eagerly but he did provide them after they begged for it with a generous amount of snark and…pity. Severus never failed to remind them who was the boss in this case. Severus was their chemistry teacher from school and he never forgot that fact. In fact, it did seem like he took pleasure by making them feel like dunderheads who knew nothing about anything.

But the Trio grinned and bore it because Severus was the best in his field. It was because of his departure (read faked his death by getting bit by a venomous snake on duty right in front of the head boss who called himself Vol-de-Mort) from the Death Eaters that the quality started to fall and now they sold poison in the name of drugs. Hermione had explicitly told Severus that they are not going to compromise with quality. If the first few deals went into a loss, then let it be a loss. Quality is more important. They'll think of a money making methods after they capture the market.

Hermione had told Severus to start a side project; a project that would focus on tapping the addictive nature of chocolate and coffee. In the long term, they would replace all their products with this extremely harmless bliss inducer. After, who doesn't like chocolate? Severus had merely raised his eyebrow at the suggestion and hummed his agreement to the proposed plan. He didn't show but Severus was giddy to get carte blanche over not one but two projects. It would be hard work but he would make it work. He wasn't the best chemist in all of the Britain just because of his dower attitude but because he was one of the best anyone could afford.

The path the three of them had embarked onto wasn't an easy one. The three of them—four of them wouldn't be able to create their own business overnight. They needed more people.

"But if we include more people the risk increases by a lot," Ron replied when Hermione said that Severus wasn't able to cope with the pressure healthily. His eyes had purple bags under them and his skin had taken an even more sickly pallor since he hadn't been in the sun for days on.

"We can bring two people on board. And I think, they would be thick as thieves with us," Hermione replied, biting her lower lip apprehensively.

"Who?" Harry asked.

"George," Hermione replied.

"George?" Ron began as his pitch rose slowly, "As in George from Fred and George Weasley?"

Hermione nodded. But Ron continued on, "They are pranksters! They are- they are—"

"Pretty magnificent chemistry students, or have you forgotten? They make of chemicals for most of their horrible prank materials," Hermione cut in.

"I remember. Those hallucinogens that makes one think that you are a canary—" Harry added.

"And those pills that make skiving class easier- puking tablet, nose bleed capsule and all those stuff," Hermione supplied further in their defence.

"Yeah… you know their latest tablets make you hallucinate as if you are in a beach dreamscape with a hotshot hunk or a chick depending on your taste," Ron added with a shy yet smug smile.

"See? I think they'll be a wonderful addition," Hermione commented.

"But Snape has to agree to take them first," Harry voiced the concern.

"I am sure he would take George in. Later when Fred gets well he can join in too," Hermione replied confidently.

Severus Snape did take him in but not before a week long practical test. George had later confessed that his university final year looked like a child's play in front for the challenges that Snape had put forward. But he passed it…with flying colours. And now, the two of them can be found lost in their own bubble of chemicals in the fabulous lab of Grimmauld Place.

They hadn't begun distributing in the market yet. But to test the market, they had released a few of their products. It wasn't so hard job. All they did was stop any of the regular drug mules using a police excuse and one of the boys swapped the product with theirs. Then began the game of waiting.

* * *

It didn't take long. There was already a word on the street that a new junk on the roll and that shit was bat shit crazy and fucking awesome. It gave fun like nothing else did. The only side effect was a minor hangover. Nothing an aspirin and a strong cup of coffee couldn't take care of. The fact that impacted the most was that it wasn't killing anybody. The regulars, in fact, had proclaimed it out right that this shit wasn't marketed by the usuals. That raised a red flag for the trio plus three's goods. It was all well and good but that didn't last long.

The most frightening moment came when Fred and George were brought to the police by their elder brothers, Charlie and Bill.

"Charlie? Bill? What brought you here?" Ron asked when he spotted his elder brothers drag in their twin brother by the collar.

"We need to talk to Harry. If possible, Hermione too. She's the one leading the narcotics department, no?" Bill whispered urgently.

Ron merely nodded and made his brothers take a seat outside Harry's office while he went to inform Harry and call Hermione. They were immediately called in by Harry while Hermione had come in running when she found their partners in crime (literally) were brought in. After Ron made sure that there were no eavesdroppers, he closed the door of Harry's office after him when the door was wrenched open by Ginny.

"I need to talk to Harry. I think I saw Bill and Charlie bring in George," she explained Ron who was not allowing the door to open more than a sliver. But Ginny kept pushing at it.

"Ron, just let me in or I'm complaining about you to mom," Ginny threatened.

"You wouldn't1" on gasped and his grip on the door slipped allowing Ginny to slip in.

As she ducked under Ron's barricading arms, she chimed, "hey Harry boss, you know—" then Ginny spotted Hermione who was nervous given the way she twisted her fancy ring on her finger followed by an uncomfortable Harry behind the desk and the deer in the headlights George being held by his collar by angry faced Bill accompanied by Charlie.

She whistled, "Wooo… the whole family seems to be here. What brought you all here?"

"That's supposed to me my question, Ginny," Harry replied trying to ease the awkwardness and the tension.

"We found these two making meth in the shed behind the house," Charlie said it anyway, angrily giving the vilest look at their offender.

Fred opened his mouth to protest when Hermione cut in, "I don't believe meth can be made in a shed behind the house, no matter how good these two are at chemistry."

"See! That's what we've been trying to tell them all this time!" Fred protested.

"Charlie tasted the stuff they made. He got high as a kite. He was professing his undying love to the chickens in the coop nearby and called them wonderful dragons of the wild," Bill said in a no nonsense voice.

Charlie flushed red in embarrassment but collected himself quickly and scowled at George.

"Wasn't Fred working on a fun pill?" Ginny asked bewildered at the family crisis that was building. When everyone looked at her questioningly bar George who looked at Ginny begging to keep quiet. She ignored him either way, "That's what he told me at the pub couple weeks ago when he was drunk. That's when he fell ill, you know."

"So someone heard what he was trying to make and poisoned him," Harry concluded.

"Thus tried to eliminate him to get rid of the competition," Hermione added.

"But why was our brother working with these in the first place?" Charlie asked still angry.

"Look, it was just a harmless pra—" George began but Bill cut in again.

"I work with this department collecting evidences. I know when a prank is a prank and when it is not. There is the word on the street that there's a new stuff in town that doesn't harm the person when they have it but gives them a high as good as the hard-core stuff. I am not stupid. I know these are making them. I want them apprehended!" Bill said angrily.

"Someone used the animals under my care to transport the drugs. I found an iguana with a drug sachet. An iguana! Fred is in the hospital because of the  **drugs** ," Charlie spat out the word like it was bitter. "And now this one," Charlie gave George a shove, "is going down the same path. I can't see my brother become a junkie right before my eyes. Better I'll put him behind the bars rather than—"

"We are just making them safer!" Ron unwittingly spilt the beans.

"What!" Bill turned to face Ron, his face getting redder in anger.

"I meant…"

"Yes, we are doing it!" Harry unexpectedly spat out.

"You are doing drugs? Or asking the twins to make for you?" Ginny asked confused at the turn of the event.

Ron noted that Hermione had her dropped her jaw on the floor and had 'forgotten' to pick it up for almost a minute. So, Ron took charge of the situation.

"We all know what happened to Fred. He was not the only one. Remus, Tonks, Sirius they all were targeted. Their food was contaminated by the faulty drugs. Creevey was the youngest victim at fifteen. We tried to stop it, Bill, we did. But the authority is faulty and the administrators are corrupted. We tried. We did. But despite the raids and the lockdowns of the illegal labs, this…this industry didn't curb. It'll settle a little too deep in the veins of the city," Ron explained the whole mess they were in.

"So, we are releasing harmless ones in the market to counter the bad ones. At least, the junkies would live to see the next day. And someday, we would be able to get them to stop using it too. We are working on alternatives. Those that'll be completely safe and harmless," Hermione added when she finally got over the shock over getting caught.

After a moment's pause, Charlie began, "I just have one question now."

"Yes?" Harry asked.

"Who's idea was it to use my favourite iguana, Norberta?" Charlie asked with a calm that promised a storm afterwards.

"Mine," Hermione squeaked out.

"Just so you know I'll never forgive you for this," Charlie threatened an embarrassed Hermione.

"When do we join in then?" Bill asked.

"What do you mean join in?" Ron questioned his brother.

"You can't possibly think you three and that court jester can handle a…a business of this…delicacy. You need us. Or else you all are going to get caught," Bill told them confidently.

"Our work takes us places. Given your assistance, we can work out the deliveries in a proper way," Charlie added.

"You guys are making this a family business," Ron grumbled.

"Can I join in?" Ginny asked with a halo shining rather bright on her head.

"NO!" everyone said at the same time.

Ginny blew a raspberry at them.

"But look at it this way, lil brother, we are going to work for you," Bill winked at Ron.

"Harry's place for another meeting at seven today," Hermione ordered.

"Pizza dinner?" Harry asked.

Everyone nodded enthusiastically.

"Don't forget, I'll get included in this soon," Ginny replied with a sniff.

"Ginny…" Hermione began.

"No, no. You and I are going to have a long chat today when we meet," Ginny glowered at her.

Hermione's shoulders slouched. Their work just got a level up and here she was with pending a hearing down from her friend.

Hermione shook her head in despair.

* * *

The business had been running smoothly for more than a decade. They owned the market and made sure no weed blossomed to challenge them. But this? This was new. They sent out their delivery, half way to the destination someone hijacked their vehicle and stuffed it with a different product and sent it. Somehow the drivers or the delivery mules never found out about the swap until the delivery was complete. This went on for a couple of months and then radio silence. All the deliveries went on smoothly, their buyers didn't complain about their material.

Then began the drastic raids from the police department. The Death Eaters had a hard time escaping from the clutches of the police. Many, if not most, police were in the pocket of the prominent Death Eaters but they understood the depth of the trouble they were in after the time when the police department raided at their laboratory.

Abraxas was one of the first members of the Death Eaters. When Voldemort had begun his trade he was there by his side to support him in every way he could. He had helped in pocketing many of the law enforcers. He had protected this gang and nurtured it. But this time, he couldn't protect it. The blow was dealt at a delicate area.

"So, they found our manufacturing base at The Diary?" a smooth voice asked Abraxas.

Voldemort was sitting, facing his chair's back to Abraxas. The slow puff of the cigarette smoke curled from his place.

"Unfortunately so, Sir," Abraxas replied sitting there as he watched the bodyguards shuffle uncomfortably. They knew their boss's temper a little too well. That smooth emotionless voice meant only one thing- the calm before the storm.

Voldemort turned to face him. An artist's chiselled face with perfect strong jaw and high cheekbone and the slight hollow of his cheek that made him seem strikingly handsome accompanied by pitch black eyes bore into Abraxas with silent anger. Tom Riddle Jr.'s jaw clenched and unclenched. Abraxas knew under the desk that hid the bottom half of Tom, Tom's hands were turned into fists and were white knuckled now.

"Wasn't Lucius in charge of The Diary?" Tom continued talking in the same tone.

"Yes, Sir."

Tom nodded. "Please bring Lucius to the room below. Tell him I need to have a word with him."

"Yes, Sir."

Tom waved his hand and dismissed him. Abraxas prayed, walking down the corridor, that his brother isn't killed for whatever he has done.

The next few hours were filled with howls of pain and pleadings of mercy. But Tom was particularly vicious. The Diary was the first business Tom had set up all on his own at the mere age of sixteen. That library of his was very dear to him. He personally overlooked that library and now it was sealed because the police had found their rarely used meth lab in the basement. Lucius was bleeding from his mouth and it seemed he had a couple of bones broken too. His flouncy, platinum blonde hair was matted with blood. He was lying on his side whimpering a little but Tom caught hold of his arm and jerked him up. Tom had shed his jacket and was present there with the sleeves of his pristine white shirt rolled up. His shirt was speckled with Lucius's blood but it didn't seem to bother him. Usually, Tom did not partake in 'interrogation' sessions but this was a special case.

"I hope I was able to make myself clear by now, Lucius?" Tom asked in a monotonous voice.

Lucius managed to give a weak nod. Tom sneered at him and threw him on a chair.

"Take the fucking chair and start answering," Tom snarled.

Lucius grabbed the back of the chair with his fairly good hand and sat in the chair, shuddering in pain that came in tremors. He took gulps of air and began, "That-that hacker from the police. She- she was a regular there. Hacked into your CCTV. And-and found out about the…lab."

"And who allowed a hacker into my library in my absence?" Tom asked calmly.

"I-I thought…maybe we could infiltrate the-the police rank using her. The police force under that Potter…is-is incorruptible," Lucius panted out his explanation.

"So, you took a gamble using my library!" Tom growled in anger. Lucius flinched at the change of tone but didn't say anything more, wisely keeping his eyes on the floor.

"Lucius…" Tom purred out, as he pulled up Lucius's chin using his gun. "This blunder of yours is going make you pay very  _very_  badly. Get out my sights now. GO!" Tom shouted at the end.

Lucius fell over but scrambled up and quickly ran out of the doors that were opened now. Tom turned towards Abraxas who was watching all these proceedings warily.

"Pray Abraxas. Pray for your brother's life. For if anything happens to my books, I will make sure Lucius begs for death. He would pay with every drop of his blood. Do you understand?" Tom all but shouted.

Abraxas merely nodded his response and he too went out, knowing a dismissal when he saw one. When he reached the doorway, Tom called him.

"And Abraxas? The next delivery is going to be done under my sights."

Abraxas nodded, understanding the need for indiscretion and protection.

* * *

"Look at all these books," Hermione said in an awe filled voice.

Hermione went to the library running her fingers over the books in the tall shelves and racks. Comfortable cushion chairs were littered all around the library creating a cosy ambience. Hermione could imagine herself curling up with a book in this library lost in the universe of the present book in the hand.

A hand on her shoulder pulled Hermione out of her daydreams.

"I know you are probably getting high of this but I had to pull a lot of strings to just get you a permit to be here," a woman in uniform with shoulder length brown hair told Hermione.

"Susan, these books," Hermione replied dreamily.

"I promise no harm shall come to them. After they are all accounted for they may go to you," Susan replied as a matter of fact-ly.

"Wha…?"

"Oh god, I never thought I would see the day when Hermione Granger is speechless," Susan murmured to herself.

"What are you saying?" Hermione whispered as she started touching the books near her reverently.

"This place is going to be locked as it is a crime scene. The books really don't deserve to suffer. So, I pulled strings given the fact it's easy to pull strings for you, and got the permit to allow the books to be donated to the S.P.E.W."

"You would do that?"

"Yes. You are police personnel. Where else would the books be safer?"

"Thank you so much!"

"No problem."

The rest of the day was spent taking inventory of the books that were to be donated to her NGO that worked to stop child labour. These books would be a blessing for the kids. And her. She could never get enough of books. She was exhausted at the end of the day. Who knew making an inventory list of each and every book was such a gruelling work? At the end of the working hours, with only thirty per cent books taken into inventory account, Hermione trudged her way to her favourite café that served her type of coffee- the-Hermione-needs-to-keep-her-eyes-open-and-still-not-be-hyper-enough-to-sta-up-all-night.

The barista during day and barmaid at night, Rosmerta of Three Broomsticks of Hogsmeade served Hermione's special coffee with a smile and left Hermione alone to lounge in her café with the coffee. She let out a groan of pleasure as she took a sip of the nectar of Gods. It was the way coffee should be- sweet, bitter and milky.

Their product deliveries were running on time. The market was slowly coming under their control. No body suspected the swap that happened mid delivery. The product (she refused to call it by any other name) was handcrafted with utmost care. Quality was their motto and damn if they didn't deliver on that promise.

If they couldn't stop this trade, they would hijack the trade. And make it safe. This city has gone to hell. No amount of awareness program or rehab or control could stop the black market. At least under their work, they could limit the sales to the black market rather than the open market. Now they have to work to curb it or pipe it down to a minimal. Hermione was contemplating when the door of the cafe/ pub slammed open and a man stumbled in and fell on the polished floor. A platinum blonde sauntered in and hauled the man by the fronts of his jacket.

"Where. Is. It?" the blonde asked punctuating the words.

Hermione could now make out the fallen man was badly beaten up, bruises and blood showing up in patches on his face. The man panted badly to answer, "I-ah-I swear-(huff)-I don't-don-'t know. I-uh-I got the truck empty, Abraxas," he dragged out the last words.

_'_ _Ah, the delivery man for the truck full of dirty product. Bill and Charlie must have swapped with this truck,' Hermione thought._

"Fuck it, Travis. You know how much I hate lies," the 'Abraxas' man shouted and pushed away from the 'Travis' man on the floor who landed with a thud. Abraxas grunted as he placed a well-aimed kick to Travis' ribs. Hermione sitting two tables away could clearly hear that crack. It was time to step in given how well the waiters were hiding behind the reception desk.

Hermione placed her coffee in the middle of the table (she didn't want to spill it, duty calls or not) and walked to the kicking man and gave him a shove with all her might. He stumbled a little and turned to look at her.

"Private property. Take your brawl somewhere else," Hermione replied in a no nonsense voice.

"You are going to tell us what to do now?" a well-built goon accompanying Abraxas snarled.

"If you are so dumb, then yes," Hermione replied nonchalantly.

The brute lunged towards Hermione and in a flash, she pulled out her gun from her back and pointed it at his head. The man stopped in his track.

"Like I said before, out the door you go, else your brain is going to decorate the walls here," Hermione threatened unflinchingly.

The man slapped Hermione's gun holding hard making the gun fly away to a corner and lunged at her. She ducked and sidestepped escaping lunging arms of that man. She slid her hand to the mini pistol in her socks and pulled it out. She slammed the butt of the pistol into his nose and he fell down with a howl clutching his broken nose. She lunged at the blonde then, fisting his hair tightly pulling back his head.

'Damn! Such silky hair! It should be illegal to be so soft and shiny and manageable!' was the thought that was running in Hermione's head as she gave another savage tug at the hair in her fist out of revenge for her own righteous, undisciplined curls.

Hermione pulled the Blondie, who was at least a foot taller than her, by his hair and snarled in his ears, "I am a regular here and I did  **hate** to have your guts decorate this place. So, Out. You. Go!"

Some more men in suits came in through the door and tried to approach Hermione or rather the Blondie who was standing at an awkward angle given Hermione gave a tight downward tug whenever he tried to straighten up. She gave one look at the three men who were standing in an improper semi-circle and pushed Blondie towards them. He stumbled a bit and then got his balance and huffed and straightened his suit with a jerk to the fronts of his jacket.

"Take your business to some shadier place. This is a family place. The last thing they need is this." Hermione pointed out at the 'Travis' who was whimpering on the floor and to the broken nosed man standing nearby giving her death glare as he wiped the blood off with his monogrammed handkerchief.

"I am sorry, Miss. I didn't think these imbeciles would spill private matters in places like this," the man apologised with an all teeth fake grin. It felt more like he was snarling at her.

Hermione merely pointed towards the door with a jut of her chin and turned around to take her seat. A slight ruffle of fabric alerted her of a possible attack and she spun around with the grace of a dancer and pointed blank shot at the lunging man's thigh, incapacitating him. It was the same fake smile man. Close up, she could make out her flint black eyes boring into her with loathing.

"Don't worry. It barely grazed you," Hermione said walking towards her table as the shot man fell to the floor clutching his bleeding wound. "Am I clear now?" Hermione asked without looking back to grab her now cool coffee, the question pointed towards the fallen man.

He groaned in reply.

"Good! Now, be on your ways, boys. I won't repeat again." Hermione sipped her coffee. She almost spat the cool coffee out but she was making a statement and spitting out the coffee would put a damper in her style.

"Sorry for the trouble," the Blondie said through clenched teeth his anger barely in control and tipped his head at her.

Hermione merely waved him off and took another fake sip. The other well-dressed goons grabbed Travis and the bleeding man and dragged them away with them, creating a trail of blood on the floor. The Blondie gave her a glare and strutted off. Hermione kept drinking her coffee as she watched the goons drive away.

"Are you okay, Hermione?" Rosmerta asked placing a hand on her shoulder.

Hermione let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"I'm fine," Hermione replied automatedly.

"Another coffee?" Rosmerta asked as Hermione faced her stress clearly showing on her face. "It'll be on the house." She offered.

* * *

Tom kept staring at the warrior queen from behind his tinted glass of his car. What wouldn't give to get acquitted with her? His face split into a smirk as he pulled his specs off his face and bit the temple tips, recalling how she threated his right-hand man.

"Who was she?" Tom asked when Abraxas got in the front seat.

"Hermione Granger. The head detective in the Hogwarts Police Department," Abraxas replied, wincing a little as he wove his hands through his tresses. That damn woman had really pulled out a chunk of his hair. He lightly massaged his scalp though it didn't help one bit.

"Isn't she the one who is the puppeteer behind all these raids on our clubs, pubs and bars?"

"And our jewellery shops and the fucking library."

Tom let out a mirthless laugh.

"She's friends with the head of the narcotics department. So, it is a combined effort," Abraxas explained further, trying to direct more of Tom's ire on that wretched, hair abusing a woman.

"Interesting."

A muffled noise and a dull thump came from behind the car.

Tom craned his neck and saw his goons stuff Travis in a car's trunk. Someone came up to his window and knocked on it. Tom lowered his window glass.

"What do we do about him, boss?"

"Get him a one-way ticket to my special cave. He would love the view. The ones lying there could do with some new company." And with that, he pulled up the window glass and his chauffeur drove the car away. But his mind was still on that woman who dared to kick his second in command's butt in front of the tycoon of this city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Review if you please. It makes my day!  
> **   
>  **And please let me know how was badass Hermione. Personally, this is my favourite chapter out of all.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **  
> **  
> I am sorry for the delay. I am in my final year of college. I have a project to do, prepare for placement exams (which start from 4th September. Usually, it starts from the 3rd week of September but this year they decided to visit early and I'm panicking!), do my own studies (you can't neglect your semester study. No, sir!) and prepare for my p.g exams. So, yes. I am a *bit* buried under the work. Talk about academic pressure.  
>  So this brings me to...a bad news. I will not be able to maintain a schedule anymore. I am sorry. But Real Life comes first. That doesn't mean this is going on a hiatus like The Lost Cause did. (*Cough* Muse ran away *cough*). It simply means the story will be updated rather slowly.  
> I can tell you that after 4th Sept, the scenario may change. May change, mind it.  
> That's all I can say for now.  
> Thank you for being by me despite my irregularity.  
> Any mistake you find is completely mine. You can PM me or review me about the mistakes you find here. Beta's busy as am I.  
> Some inspiration of dialogues taken from dulce de leche go's work.  
> Thank you, everyone, for their reviews and follows and favourites. They lift me up like nothing can.  
> 

* * *

 

The next few days went in a lull. They never repeated their patterns more than once. Charlie and Bill maintained a log of ideas of transporting 'dog food' as they called it. They never transported it in anything but sachets of that stuff. So it became quite difficult for their rivals to find who was doing it. Fred was well now and he took in the responsibility of packaging along with his best friend, Lee Jordan. The trio was wary of the growing number, but Bill was right. This business couldn't be done single handed.

The Death Eaters were fighting an invisible enemy. Though their bulk order of export that went outstations was never messed with, their city supplies got badly disrupted. Of course, their boss knew about the inferior quality of supplies delivered at Hogwarts but he didn't care about it. His main target was fulfilling the outstation orders. As long as their boss's stipulated marketing and sales targets were met, no harm was done. But when one's own turf starts fighting against the boss, it lowers the respect of the boss. Other bosses would start bad naming their boss, and that could snow ball into a turf war starting out. The law stated that the weak shall be eliminated. Voldemort would not stand that happening. Ever.

Abraxas knew that very well. He was there when this 'gang' was formed. Everyone in the inner circle of the Death Eaters had shed their blood, sweat and tears to make the Death Eaters reach the heights where it is now. It was a wrong view of the outsiders that the Death Eaters dealt with drugs only. As if. You could never bring the sponsors under one umbrella with the sole desire of making and selling drugs. The Death Eaters went beyond that. They had their fingers in many pies.

From fur export to gem stone export-imports to antique business to arms dealing, the Death Eaters had made sure that every profit making sector was controlled by them. Voldemort personally looked into one sector all by himself that was the antique books. The police department had gone a little too far by messing with his library, The Diary, where he had handpicked almost all the books.

Ergo, Abraxas had to deliver his master the good news or else it'll be RIP Lucius Malfoy, the doting husband and a not so doting father.

"I heard that you have found the hacker," Tom said as soon as Abraxas entered his study.

"Yes, sir," Abraxas said as he put a thin file on the study table. Tom picked it up and started flipping through it.

"I want you to get our best crackers on this girl. I want her ruined. Destroy her life if it needs to be. I don't care. She has cost me my library. I want to see her dead. Is that clear, Abraxas?" Tom ordered. His anger draining into his tone. And Tom rarely let his emotions be reflected by his mannerisms.

Abraxas nodded and was almost out of the door when Tom called him back.

"And Abraxas?"

"Yes?"

"Get me the file on Head Detective Granger."

"Yes, Sir."

* * *

Tom Riddle had spent the last few hours indulging in reading everything he could get his hands on the Granger woman. And he found a way to get to her. He got up from his seat in his study where he had been sitting and called his butler, Wormtail.

"Call Antonin. I have an errand for him."

"Yes, Master."

Tom hissed and rolled his eyes. He could never stop making his butler not call him Master. The way he dragged the last syllable of the word grated on his nerves. If he had his way, he would cut his tongue for that insolence that he kept repeating. But he was useful as an errand runner in cases like this where he had no desire to communicate with someone.

A knock on the door alerted Tom of Antonin Dolohov's presence. Wormtail escorted him in and left the study soon after.

"What work do you have for me?" Antonin asked standing in front of Tom, not taking a seat.

Tom straightened and held out a picture. It was a picture of Hermione as she exited her office for the day along with two of her colleagues. She looked rather lovely in her office clothes of black pant suit with a gun holster silhouetted by her tight fitting jacket.

"Shadow her, find everything you can. Report me Tomorrow morning sharp," Tom ordered curtly.

Antonin nodded and took the photo with him.

* * *

It was late at night when Hermione finished doing the weekend cleaning of her flat. It was a good habit because when the new week rolled in, some days her bed and coach got lost under the mountain of books, magazines, her notepads, an array of coloured pens and sheets and sheets of paper. She gave a wide yawn and dragged herself to the fridge to get a quick midnight bite before she went to sleep. She didn't want to wake up at three am at night just because she was hungry. She pulled out her milk carton and poured out a glass of milk and a couple of chocolate chip cookies out of the jar. Finished eating it up and drank the milk and switched off the lights of the kitchen to go out of there when she again went near the jar and pulled out another cookie because she had been a good person that day. After a quick hygiene care session, she was a blanket burrito under her favourite Star Wars blanket and out like a light.

She didn't know what time it was but she knew it was an ungodly time. Her phone was shouting shrilly, demanding to be picked up immediately and threatened to vibrate off the side table if its demands weren't met with.

She grabbed that necessary evil of daily life and somehow managed to answer the call.

She grunted into the receiver.

"Hermione, somebody is following me," a voice whispered panicked-ly.

Hermione groaned. She had worked like a slave doing the inventory of The Diary's books again with the Head Of the Department. Then brain stormed with the team regarding a missing case. She was tired, for crying out loud. "Well, good for you! It means you are well liked!"

"Hermione, it's me, Ginny! Somebody's trying to kill me!"

"What! Where are you?" Hermione replied, fully alert and awake now.

"I am near the Chamber of Secrets Bar. I'm hiding behind the dumpsters in the alley," Ginny whispered.

"Harry shall be the nearest one. He was supposed to be at his home now. Hold on! Don't hang your phone!" Hermione instructed.

"I won't," Ginny replied fearfully.

Hermione quickly typed on her phone making a conference call. The phone rang and then at the last ring, Harry groaned a hello into his mouth piece.

"Harry!" Hermione sighed out. "Thank goodness! Well, listen! Ginny's in trouble—"

"Wha—" Harry groaned.

"Ginny! Ron's sister, Ginny!" Hermione explained in rapid fire.

"What?! Oh, alright. I'm getting there," Harry replied.

"And Harry, don't hang up. This is a conference call. It'll assure Ginny, right, Ginny?"

"Yes," came a scared whisper.

"Okay, so I'm getting my car keys and," some crash, bang and a series of curses and ouches were heard from Harry's call.

"I take it that Ron's up too?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, he's up. He's taking his car. I'm out of the house now. Going to the parking lot. I'll be there by five minutes," Harry answered.

"But it's a fifteen minutes distance," Ginny replied in a low voice.

"And I am a fucking Chief of the HPD and this is a fucking emergency," Harry snarled.

"Mind your fucking language, Harry," Hermione chided him.

Harry snorted. "Oh, yes. Sorry."

"Where's Ron now?" Hermione asked.

"The last I saw him he was in his car shooting out of the basement parking. He would reach there earlier than me," Harry replied.

"He didn't take his phone with him, did he?" Hermione asked.

"No, he didn't. He just has his gun and his ratty carrot orange PJ on. That bloke went off shirtless," Harry snickered.

"You are in the same condition too, Harry," Hermione teased.

"Nope, I'm in full PJs with a gun and my Bluetooth earphone in my ear," Harry answered.

A screech sounded in the background with some more loud thuds and thumps.

"You okay, Harry?" Hermione asked concernedly.

"Yeah, yeah. Just hurrying," Harry replied.

Hermione was on the phone when she heard a shrill scream.

"GINNY! Ginny, are you there? GINNY?"

Apparently, Ginny had dropped her phone. Hermione didn't hang up and heard a thud followed by the screech of tires and a shout that Hermione knew was of Harry's. At least, he was there! Some random thuds and scuffling noise later, someone picked up the phone panted into the speaker, "I'm bringing Ginny home," and promptly hung up.

Okay, Harry reassured her. She was at ease now. But then where was Ron?

* * *

It was rare finding a woman of beauty and brains both. Whatever he has learned about her so far has only pointed out to the fact that she is smart. Sharp enough to counter him. Hermione Granger seemed to be a very run of the mill good girl with an adventurous streak. Straight As throughout her life even in the university which attended as part-time while training in the police academy. Extremely hard working and straight laced person, so passionate about her job that recently she had a dispute with Mayor Dumbledore himself. Anyone who had a bone to pick with Dumbledore was in Tom's okay books.

So, Tom wasn't going to let this one slip away. Yes, he did have a good time with Bellatrix but she was getting married to Rodulphus as his trophy wife soon. Such good talent would go to waste if Bellatrix got confined. He wouldn't let that happen. She was his best interrogator and he would keep her that way. Marriage or no marriage. But he needed his queen. And he seemed to find one in Hermione Granger. He had her followed by his best men. Antonin was gushing over her after just a day of stalk…sleuthing. He allowed Antonin to do so for the time being. Once she passed his tests, he would slit Antonin's throat with his own hand. Until then, he would have to use him to lure Ms Granger in. Antonin had brought in the interesting news. He hoped it worked or else Antonin will get hurt sooner than later.

* * *

It was a busy day for Hermione. There were so many things to do. A new case had just been dropped on her desk regarding a school teacher who had gone missing while on a holiday. The strange thing was she had checked out of the hotel she was staying at and checked in at the airport but she never arrived at Hogwarts Airport. The case of one Ms Charity Burbage. There was pressure from the higher ups to get this case solved as soon as possible given the elections were near. Hermione wanted this case to be a scandal for the Dumbledore 'reign' but doing so would be tainting her own rep. Dilemmas and more dilemmas.

Ron and she had spent half the day making the clue board- filling it with leads and the possible connections. It was exhausting, churns the mind like nothing can. So, they took a coffee break and made their way to the cafeteria when a delivery boy came in with a parcel for Hermione.

After Hermione had signed for it and received the parcel, Ron suggested her to take the parcel to the forensics room and open it in case it was a threat mail or something ominous like that. Thankfully, the lab was empty that time and Harry who had joined them by now helped Hermione wear the gloves as they donned a pair too.

Hermione swiftly like a coursing river cut through the packing. A plain cardboard box. She picked it and shook it very slightly. The box almost gave away on sound except for some rustling. She had already scanned it under the x-ray machine and found it was nothing like a bomb, thank God for small mercies. She then cut open the box and found—

"Clothes?" Harry questioned.

"Middle aged woman with passport and what's this?" Hermione pulled out a scaly, dry skin.

Harry took it in his gloved hands. "Snake skin."

"Look, it has got a passport too. Abet, blood splattered," Ron commented pulling out the fore mentioned object.

"So she died of a snake bite?"

"More like a snake dropped on her. That'll answer the struggle which is why  _blood_  is splattered on this," Ron said as he waved the passport.

"What's the last entry on the passport, Ron?" Hermione asked him.

"Albania," Ron replied flipping through the entries of the passport.

"Not a frequent flier, this one," Harry commented as he peeked into the passport from over Ron's tall and broad shoulders.

"So, a school teacher takes an exotic holiday and dies due to a snake bite found commonly in that vacation region," Hermione summarised.

"Or that's what they want us to think since this conclusion feels very happen-able," Harry replied apprehensively.  
"You know what? Find the list of people who have been to Albania in the past two- three months," Ron suggested Hermione. Hermione nodded to him when—

"Can I do that searching?" a sugary voice asked the trio.

The three of them turned around as one and spotted a young-ish woman standing by the door of the lab. Wearing a lab coat over a floral top with work trousers and kitty heels stood a blonde who gave a shy smile at them.

"I'm interning here this summer," she felt the need to explain when the three of them kept gawking at her unabashedly.

"Fresh out of college?" Harry asked.

She gave a smile and shook her head. "No, I am looking for a job and Dr Pomfrey told me that if I successfully intern under her for few weeks I could be considered for a job here."

"That's Pomfrey alright," Ron replied as he gave that blonde a dazzling smile. "Looks like you are our newest member then."

"I am," she replied with a grin. "I am Lavender." She introduced herself and held out her hand for a handshake.

"I am Hermione," Hermione gave her a nod.

"I am Harry," Harry gave a short nod too.

"I am Ron."

Ron reached out his hand to shake her hand but Hermione slapped his outstretched hand. Ron and Lavender looked at her hurt and confused.

Hermione huffed in annoyance. "Lavender, you are not wearing gloves whereas his gloves have just touched an object that might contain a venom."

"Oh,  _oh_! Sorry!" Lavender quickly apologised.

Hermione merely shook her head while Harry kept snickering.

"Would you be a dear and analyse these for us?" Ron asked Lavender sweetly.

"Of course, it would be my pleasure," Lavender replied.

Ron stared at her with a smile still stuck on his face. Hermione jabbed him with her elbow to jar him out of his contemplation.

"Oi! What was that for?" Ron asked accusingly.

"We have got work. See you later, Lavender," Hermione gave a tight smile and walked out of the lab dragging Ron by his hand with Harry following them who gave a sheepish smile at the other two's antic and walked out of the room.

Lavender watched them walk away when her phone gave a short jingle. She quickly pulled it out thinking it was Ron but then realised he didn't have her number. She replied to the message she got and then got busy doing her work, with the ginger-headed, handsome man the foremost thought in her mind.

* * *

"Who did you say was our lead for this case?" Hermione questioned her colleague, Dean Thomas.

"Someone by the name of Bad Faith," Dean murmured, embarrassed at having to spell out the name.

Hermione snorted. "Is that person a rapper or a YouTuber?"

"Neither, he's a tattoo artist. Works near the Weasley's Joke shop in the Diagon Alley," Dean informed her.

"Let's have a chat with him then," Hermione suggested as they got in their cars.

Finding the shop wasn't hard. It was right on the street. Since it was barely fifteen minutes past the opening hours, there wasn't any customer at the shop. Hermione and Dean got down their car and made their way to the shop. As soon as they opened the door, the bell overhead gave a chime drawing the attention of the staffs towards them.

A young man with an olive complexion and close shaved head wearing a tight graphic bro tank and faded, well-worn jeans headed towards them with a washcloth in his hand. "Yes?"

He was quite tall and muscular and looked rather handsome. Hermione raised her head a bit to look straight into his eyes. 'Nice dark eyes that flashed green at a certain angle under the harsh fluorescent light. 'Pretty eyes,' Hermione thought as she flashed her badge. Dean followed her actions then.

"I am Hermione from HPD and this is my colleague, Dean. We are here to talk to…uh…Bad Faith," Hermione said almost spitting out the last two words.

The man eyed them for a moment, then almost hesitantly replied, "I'll call him." Then he stood there and shouted, "Oi! Ferret ass! Police want to talk to you."

Hermione winced at his uncouthness while Dean merely rolled his eyes. The man then placed his piece of cloth over his shoulder and introduced himself to them by merely saying his name, "I'm Blaise."

Hermione gave a tight smile and nodded politely to which Blaise wiggled his eyebrows at her and gave a cheeky smile. Dean coughed indiscreetly and then Blaise turned to him and wiggled his brows at him. "You are fit too. I'd gladly do you."

Hermione rubbed her nose, trying to hide the smile that threatened to spoil her no-nonsense stance.

A blonde with bright green and silver highlights, as tall as Blaise, with vivid tattoos all over his arms and torso, came out of an inner room. He raised his arms to wear his plain black bro tank top and that movement merely emphasised his taut muscles and lithe frame. Hermione's eye followed his top as it covered up his exposed body, spotted a glinting gem on the navel- navel piercing, and then jerked her eyes back up to his face just in time for his startling grey eyes to be trained on her. She noticed that his ears had multiple piercings-either studs or rings with a small ring on the end of his eyebrow as well as the corner of his lower lip. He ran his fingers through his hair ruffling them. A nervous habit Hermione noted along with the multiple rings adorning his fingers. Out of them, one on his middle finger of the right hand was a signet ring. He was the rebel of an old family.

_'_ _Could belong to one of those twenty-eight Pureblood families of Hogwarts,' Hermione thought._

"What is it again?" Draco scowled.

The 'again' word didn't go unnoticed by either Hermione or Dean. "I was wondering if you could give us a few minutes of your time to talk about a case we are currently working on," Hermione asked professionally.

Draco sucked his cheek and stared right into Hermione's eyes. He had looked at Dean only once but apparently, he had dismissed her partner as someone worthy enough to be talked to.

_'_ _Definitely one of the top Purebloods,' Hermione guessed. 'At least, a Parkinson or Nott or Goyl—Naah, he's lithe and that face…Hah! Those eyes! Same as Sirius'. So… that means… no! They had three daughters. So then! Aha! Bad Faith! Mal Foi which is also Malfoy!'_

"What do you want to talk about?"

"What do you know about Ms Charity Burrage?" Dean asked.

Bad Faith immediately stiffened when he heard the name. "Depends on what do you want to know," Bad Faith replied.

Hermione didn't know which Malfoy boy this is but presently she didn't even care. His reaction to Burrage's name had spiked her interest.

"How much shall you tell?" Hermione answered his question with a question.

Bad Faith looked at her steely. "She was my Cultural Studies teacher in high school."

"And?" Hermione asked.

Bad Faith deliberated for some time, licking his dry lips as he gathered his words. "It's no secret the dealings of the street, is it?"

Hermione shook her head in negation.

"Well…I heard at this bar I frequent, The Chambers of Secret, there I heard that it was to make a statement," Bad Faith replied, his Adam's apple bobbing as he gulped.

_'_ _Nervous. Even fright. He must know more than he's telling,' Hermione concluded._

"What statement?" Dean demanded.

Bad Faith didn't look at him when he answered, "She was apparently…consorting with the wrong people."

"Who's wrong here?" Hermione asked looking straight into his eyes.

Draco ran his fingers through his hair. Hermione spotted a tattoo on his left forearm. It looked rather familiar. Where had she seen that before?

"Those who stand against You-Know-Who," Bad Faith answered softly.

Hermione was busy contemplating what Bad Faith said. Dean, realising their interrogation was over, replied, "Thank you for being so forth coming. We thank you for your time."

"Rebel all the way," Bad Faith replied with a smirk.

Hermione nodded and walked out of the shop followed by Dean. Out of the corner of her eyes, she spotted Blaise grab Bad Faith's shoulder to turn him around to talk to his face. She saw Blaise talking animatedly while Bad Faith said nothing and went into the inner room followed by Blaise hot on his heels.

They were onto something big. But they didn't know what it was yet.

* * *

They had a bulk delivery due on Friday. Tom was pissed off. He had wanted the day free. He was exhausted and he wanted a leisure time to sit with a book list to compensate for the loss of his beloved library. He had worked so much for that library. He would ruin the person who took it over. He would make that person rue the day he was born.

Tom was brought out of his murderous thoughts by Abraxas.

"Your car is ready, Sir," Abraxas announced.

"Abraxas?" Tom asked.

"Yes, Sir?"

"Get me a table for two at the Signet."

"Yes, Sir."

"And make sure the restaurant is empty for that duration."

"When would be this reservation for?"

"I'll let you know."

Abraxas nodded and went out of the door.

Tom got out of his chair and collected his jacket from the rack. As soon as the supply loading is done, he was going to take a long, relaxing bath with a glass of his vineyard's finest wine.

He got in the car and was soon there at the docking location. But what caught his attention was a very familiar petite woman with a tied back hair in work suit walking towards his parked car. He got out of his car immediately when she approached his car.

"I am glad I could finally meet up with you," Tom said when she reached him.

"You could have come to my office for that," Hermione replied curtly.

"It's not something to be spoken about in public," Tom answered her. She was trying her best to avoid him. But Tom wasn't letting this fish slip from his hands.

Hermione merely frowned at him and waved her hand at the street and the road.

Tom gave a chuckle at her gesturing. Yes, they were indeed talking on the streets about sensitive matters.

"We could always talk about this over dinner," Tom suggested.

Hermione opened her mouth to protest but then she shut her mouth with a clank. She looked down and deliberated over his offer. Tom enjoyed watching her 'think-it-over'. She looked at him and stared a moment. She nodded to herself and with a sigh pulled out her phone out.

It was keyed to her fingerprint but when she tried it, the phone somehow rejected her fingerprint.

'Nervous, she was nervous about this,' Tom thought as he watched her fumble with her phone. Tom chuckled and approached her. He took her phone from her hand and took her finger in his, placed her finger properly in the scanner. The phone, then, gave a buzz of approval and the home screen opened to a picture of a Raven haired bespectacled man along with two gingers -a man and a woman- who Tom guessed were siblings along with the woman he was having an infatuation for. A group photo as a home screen, how...sentimental.

Hermione gave a small cough and straightened her suits and stretched her hand for her phone which was in Tom's grasp.

"Old friends, huh? The chief, the head strategist, the IT head and you?" Tom asked as he handed over Hermione's phone.

"Yes, school friends," Hermione replied curtly trying to maintain her dignity.

Tom just gave her a smile and handed her phone to her.

"So, go out on a dinner with me," Tom asked her softly his face adorned by a smile that rarely graced his face.

She looked baffled by his smile and kept staring at him as if she was looking at the sun for the first time.

_Who was this enigma of a woman?_

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **  
> **  
> Review If You Please!  
>  You never know when a review might get me boosted enough to post a surprise chapter ;)  
> 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry about the delay. I had my real life to take care of. In case you guys noticed my profile, I have a lot more stories than before that's because I took part in QLFC season 5. It's a writing competition where you have to be a part of a team and every two weeks you get prompts and write a story based on it. It was really fun while it lasted. But real life...
> 
> Good thing that came out of it was that I finally got time to finish up this chapter. This chapter shall be beta-ed later. I couldn't wait and had to update this.
> 
> For previews of this story, check my Facebook page by the name of QueenVulca. You'll get notifications on the update dates and stuffs.
> 
> In case the beginning confuses you, this chapter begins from the time Ginny was rescued. We skipped that part, in case that struck you guys odd.
> 
> Also, I had a really lovely reader give me playlists for this story. Thanks a ton to HTBS. Check the list at the end of this chapter.
> 
> Thank you for sticking around guys. Thanks to all the people who still favourite and following my stories. It means the world to me. And this is to my The Lost Cause readers (if there are any onto this story), the next chapter shall be out soon. I'm almost with it.
> 
> My eternal gratefulness to Puja :* and WinchesterGranger who's half the reason the stories get charted.

* * *

 

**Earlier that day**

Turns out Ron got stuck in a sudden traffic at the turning of the street where there was the Chamber of Secrets pub. Harry had missed that traffic by a minute. Harry brought Ginny to his home where Hermione was already present. Ron reached there fifteen minutes after Harry and Ginny.

Ginny was shaken up and was numb with shock. Hermione wrapped her in a soft and warm blanket and gave her hot chocolate to drink. Ginny looked at the offered glass as if she was seeing something like that for the first time. Hermione placed the glass on the coffee table, which was in front of the couch where Ginny was sitting and went to the kitchen to get a straw.

Ron and Hermione each had an arm around Ginny while Harry sat on the floor near her.

Ginny began retelling the incidents of the night, "It was a nice place. Good drinks and nice crowd. Nobody was out of their bounds. Though there was this creep who had been annoying me, this guy came up to me and shooed him away. He's this handsome tattooist from Diagon Alley. Said his name was Blaise. Terribly good flirt, made me laugh. He wanted to take me home and I agreed and I told him I'll be back from a trip to the loo."

Ginny took a pause. "I took a glass of water then everything got fuzzy. I stumbled and then somebody picked me up like a sack of potatoes. Blaise tried to reach me, I heard his voice but he was too far away. Everything's like a blur after that. I think I was taken to a private room of that club. Somebody put me in a chair. And tied me to it because I kept slipping out of it." Ginny's hands were shaking now.

"Ginny, it's all right. Take your time. We don't need to know everything right now," Harry assured her.

"No, no. I want to tell in case I forget," Ginny argued.

Hermione rubbed Ginny's back. Ginny gave a weak smile and began again, "A man with slits for nose and eyes like a snake talked to me. As far as I could make it, his skin was scaly like a snake—" At that, the three other people in the room shared a look. "He looked like a snake hybrid. The man who brought me there brought his face near me and smiled. His mouth was full of sharp teeth and there was a distinctly large pair of canine teeth. He smelled like a dirty dog!" Ginny blanched as she said it.

"And then?" Harry implored.

"Then I ran. I don't remember much. I just…ran. And somehow, I found myself in that alley. So, I hid behind the dumpster and had enough sense to call you people," Ginny ended tiredly.

Harry went to get Ginny a glass of water. As Ginny took greedy gulps of water, it was plain to see that she was seeing Harry adoringly. Ginny was hero-worshipping him. She already had a crush on him for being the youngest and the most handsome Chief ever and now she had every reason to adore him.

Hermione hoped that Ginny's crush didn't create any trouble for them.

Ron and Harry agreed that Ginny should spend the night at Harry's home while Hermione promised to spend the night keeping a distraught Ginny company.

This incident brought troublesome news about the activities of the Death Eaters. But that was a worry for some other day.

* * *

**The next day…**

Hermione hadn't wanted to go to the crime scene of the latest case. She knew there were other officers too who could work wonderfully for this but that location happened to be Bill and Charlie's latest swap location of the day. A bulk delivery was going out of town. If they product-napped it and replaced it with their own, it could help crumble the reputation of the Death Eaters as a good deliverer. Hell, they had already spoiled a lot for them. This…this could be their death blow! Now all pumped up, Hermione donned her jacket and got in the car with her team following her.

"I made a mistake coming here," Hermione moaned as she put another evidence in the bag. This was an open and shut case. The old chemistry teacher faked his death and had escaped the country. Dumbledore had tried to get Harry get that man, Slughorn. But he seemed to be in the bad books of the Death Eaters for some reason. His miserable bachelor's pad had blood pooled all over the vinyl of the kitchen and some splattered on the curtains too for dramatic effect. It was plain to see that it wasn't Slughorn's blood. No human had that much blood in his body. And there was enough blood spilt there for two grown-up men.

He had faked his death and when the Death Eaters had come to check up on him, they didn't find him, ransacked his house and went their ways. Then Dumbledore got the fine idea of finding that man and here they were wasting everyone's time. Hermione hoped she could see the swapping duo in action. Harry said the way the two eldest Weasleys worked was like watching a well-oiled machine in work. Smooth and effortless.

"Oh come on. Part of the work, Mione," Ron replied as he looked around flipping through one of the vintage Playboy magazines that were along with some chemistry journals covered by dust.

"How in the world did you even find them?" Hermione screeched at him and tried to swipe those magazines from his hand.

"No, no, no!" Ron protested and shoved them in his jacket. "I will sell them on eBay and earn my dinner money."

"Do you realise that you are not wearing your gloves and those magazines could be…compromised?" Hermione asked him as she scrunched up her face in disgust.

"Comprom—Holy—Fuck!" Ron flung those magazines away from him. They fluttered through the air and landed soundly on a blonde.

"What the—" she cursed looking around for the offender and rubbing her bruised head.

Hermione and Ron found it was the same intern they had met in the morning- Lavender.

"I am so sorry!" Ron apologised.

When Lavender spotted him, she gave a nervous smile and blushed. "Oh, it's you. I didn't—That's okay. Umm…you didn't know…"

Ron flashed his brilliant smile at Lavender. She turned her head away and went back to work but Ron still kept staring at her. When she bent down to pick up those magazines, Hermione noted that Ron's attention was on her bottom that strained in that tight pant of hers.

Hermione shoved her elbow into Ron's rib.

"Owww!" he rubbed his abused ribs. "What was that for?"

"Unmanly behaviour," Hermione replied.

"It was manly alright. My manly body behaviour can vouch for that," Ron replied cheekily, wiggling his eyebrows at Hermione.

Hermione let out an irritated huff and smiled at his silliness. "I'm off then. I don't think I shall be needed here."

"I'll be here. I'll inform you if something develops," Ron replied.

"Yeah, you do that," Hermione told him and then went out of the crime scene. As she walked out of the living room teeming with the police force, she slipped out of the back door and walked down a little to just walk by the abandoned house from where the delivery swap would happen.

She noticed from afar that there was a black Mercedes parked near the house but didn't pay it any mind. As she approached the car, a man got out of the car and opened the rear door to let out a man in so crisp a suit that she felt that she could hear the fabric crackle. It seemed like he was waiting to talk to her.

"I am glad I could finally meet up with you," a handsome man with cheekbones to die for and that errant lock of hair that tantalised her spoke to her when she approached the man.

"You could have come to my office for that," Hermione replied.

"It's not something to be spoken about in public," that man replied.

Hermione merely frowned at him and waved her hand at the street and the road.

That man gave a chuckle that shouldn't be allowed outside of the bedroom.

"We could always talk about this over dinner," the man suggested.

Hermione opened her mouth to reply how she didn't go out with people whose name she doesn't know when she noticed the truck standing across the street. Then it clicked! Charlie and Bill must be hijacking this very truck. And the probable owners or supervising managers of the truck are the people standing in front of her. By the looks of the man talking to her, he seemed to be a higher-up of the gang.

She had never seen this man before. She knew about the Blonde- he was the second in command. Everyone else was under him and…Was this Tom Fucking Riddle standing in front of her? She had to get his complete attention on her. His bodyguards too. What should she do? What should she do?

Act like a ditzy!

Hermione put her hand in her pocket to pull out her phone. Fiddling with the phone should buy her some time. And her sweat covered fingers did just that. The fingerprint scanner in her phone didn't recognise her prints. It rejected it outright. She tried again and was unsuccessful. Her phone buzzed with a text. She glanced at the screen and found it was text from Bill. She had to open it now.

She looked up to catch a glimpse of Tom's expression- he merely looked amused. Good for her. Her game plan included showing her true nervousness while acting like a clumsy blitz which shouldn't be so difficult. She was a naturally clumsy person- it was only after rigorous practices that Ginny made her do that had turned her into a functional graceful lady in heels.

She put her fingerprint on the scanner again. The phone rejected it with a double buzz. She seethed. What the fuck was wrong with her phone? She tried again and it rejected  **again**. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath in. She blew the air out of her mouth and gave a stern glare on her phone. She pressed the power button and unlocked it using her pattern lock. Something was done better the old way. Fingerprint lock, her foot!

She read the preview of the text.

**Distract for 10mins. We'll be done.**

Ten minutes was 6000 seconds. Already some hundred seconds had passed given the delay did by her phone. So, like 5000 seconds more- give or take. A sweat rolled down her temple tracing her face's contours and into the collar of her shirt. She had to up her game. She dismissed the notification and opened her calendar. She had an evening hangout schedule planned with the girls- Ginny, Luna, Hannah, Pansy and Susan. Why did she—Oh! Pansy's hen night! OH! Pansy's hen night! She had completely forgotten all about it! She would have to buy something offensive and embarrassing for her.

She scrolled down and found the day after tomorrow free. She nodded at her phone. Mr I-suspect-could-be Tom Riddle will have to manage in this schedule or else she's a busy person. She had her legal job and an illegal business to look after.

"I am not free this evening nor I am free tomorrow. But the day after tomorrow, I'll be at my office. You can talk to me then," Hermione said pocketing her good-for-little-things phone.

"How about a more private setting? Maybe at a restaurant?" Tom suggested.

"Why?"

"The matters I want to talk to you about mustn't be overhead."

Hermione actually was taken aback.

' _What private thing did have to talk to her about? Did Voldemort somehow find out about their business? Obviously, he would know there are losses occurring in his business. But to confront her like this? Hadn't Ginny told her Voldemort worked into an insidious way? Then why send his men to her? Were they even the Death Eaters?' Her mind was buzzing with questions and speculations._

It was then when she noticed that shocking platinum blonde head from inside the car on the passenger's seat. Blondie from the Three Broomsticks.

Hermione started taking a step back.

"I could probably agree to that had I known your name," Hermione replied, cocking her eyebrow at his audacity.

The man chuckled as if she said something funny.

Hermione did notice the crack in the sidewalk. So, she acted like she was in deep thought when she purposely put her heel in the crack and took a step. Her heel got stuck in the crack and as she expected, she stumbled. Then she let gravity do its work.

* * *

Tom watched the Head Detective stumble and slip. Involuntarily, he caught her falling form in her arm and ended up with her head flush against his front and tightly. He couldn't help but appreciate the soft form of a beautiful woman against him. He was a hot-blooded man after all.

"Are you alright?" Tom asked politely making a point to whisper that in her ears.

He couldn't control his smile when he felt her shiver a little in reaction.

She held onto her like her life depended on it. She flushed red and was sweating nervously. She must be a really naïve little thing to be so badly affected by him. Otherwise, she was a brilliant actress. He pulled her up and on purpose trailed his fingers down her covered arm. She actually shivered at that. Tom didn't know if he should revel in his ability or praise her ability to act like this.

_'I've never felt so humiliated in my life,' Hermione thought as she shivered from disgust._

Tom decided to take it as it was coming. As stood as she stood straight, she took a big step away from him, wobbling a bit more when his bodyguard, Scabior, nearest to her extended his arm to catch her should she fall again. She jumped a little away from him and gave Scabior a tight smile.

Tom extended his hand for a handshake. "Tom Riddle. It was a pleasure meeting you. And I think it would be my honoured if you agreed to go on a business dinner with me. There are things that are giving me troubles and I need a…consultation."

' _Liar, liar. Pants why not on fire,'_  Hermione thought bitterly.

"Like I said before, day after tomorrow. I can spare some time during my lunch break," Hermione replied.

"I can do with that," Tom nodded and gave her a dashing…smirk.

Something about the smirk made Hermione feel trapped. That was one hell of a sinister smirk. Like a predator would give -if it could- when it trapped its prey.

Hermione nodded when her phone buzzed with another text message. She whispered an "excuse me" and unlocked her phone -using freaking pattern lock!- when she heard the vroom of the truck. She opened the text message.

**Thought of the day!**

**D is when the chick wants your dick! O is when the said D brings about an orgasm. N is when neither can move an inch, post blissful release. E is when the night ends on good terms with both going their ways. No hassle, no clinginess.**

**Brought to you by- Fire that'll eat you from the inside and bad boy with a heart of gold and a snake fang earring.**

Hermione sputtered out loud and look at her phone scandalized. Her eyes were as big as dinner plates. She looked at her screen and flushed red.

"Anything wrong?" Tom asked with a little concern.

"No. Nothing at all. My colleagues are just trying to be funny," Hermione replied as she pocketed her phone.

Tom looked at his watch. "I should be going now. I am looking forward to our lunch."

Hermione merely smiled in reply.

She watched him get inside his car gracefully and signal his driver to get moving. Tom's bodyguards got into the other car that she hadn't noticed before- how silly and unobservant of her! But she did notice the blonde head of the second in command watch her at the time until the car turned a corner and was out of her sights.

Did he catch her act? Only time can tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, short chapter but lemme tell you 2k words of the next one is already done. 2k more then that chapter will be ready too.
> 
> The 'Your Love Is My Drug' Playlist by HTBS
> 
> 1) Undisclosed Desires by Muse
> 
> 2) Love on the Brain by Rihanna
> 
> 3) Toxic by Britney Spears
> 
> 4) Fetish by Selena Gomez ft Gucci Mane
> 
> 5) Crazy in Love (the Fifty Shades of Grey Version) by Beyonce
> 
> 6) For Your Entertainment - Adam Lambert
> 
> 7) Dangerous Woman by Ariana Grande
> 
> 8) Gangsta by Kehlani
> 
> 9) Demons by Imagine Dragons
> 
> 10) Love me Harder by Ariana Grande and The Weekend
> 
> 11) Pompeii by Bastille
> 
> 12) Haunted by Beyonce
> 
> 13) This is What You Came For - Calvin Harris ft Rihanna
> 
> 14) We Found Love - Rihanna
> 
> 15) Princess of China - Coldplay
> 
> 16) A Requiem for a Dream
> 
> 17) Titanium by David Guetta ft Sia
> 
> 18) Skyscraper by Demi Lovato
> 
> 19) Disturbia by Rihanna
> 
> 20) Heartless by Kanye West
> 
> 21) Your Love is My Drug by Ke$ha (Well duh?)
> 
> 22) Pokerface by Lady Gaga
> 
> 23) Runnin by Naughty Boy ft Beyonce
> 
> 24) Secrets by One Republic
> 
> 25) If I Lose Myself by One Republic
> 
> 26) The Hills by The Weekend
> 
> 27) Pillowtalk by Zayn Malik
> 
> 28) Only Love Can Hurt Like This by Paloma Faith
> 
> 29) Bad Romance by Lady Gaga
> 
> 30) Closer by Ne-Yo
> 
> 31) Up all Night by Charlie Puth.
> 
> 32) Starlight by Muse
> 
> I hope you guys take the time to hear these beautiful songs that make the mood of the story really. Each and every song matches with a chapter- some already up and some that are still being written down.
> 
> A big thank you to HTBS again.
> 
> Until next time, people.
> 
> Review if you please!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's an early chapter. But don't get your hopes high on this schedule. That is still wonky and has nothing written in stone.
> 
> *Sacrifices a chocolate lava cake to the muse*
> 
> *Sends a prayer to keep up the flow*
> 
> Though some assurance that I can give is that the 7th chapter is 2k and counting. This story was supposed to end in the next chapter. Instead, it grew and grew and grew and right now we are nowhere near the middle of the story. Tomione romance is supposed to bloom, we need to experience some turbulent emotions, plot twists, some deaths, some fighting, some smut (yes, I've finally made up mind. Plus Aimee Little's drawing inspired the scene. I'll feature it in the chapter cover on my Facebook page, if you are interested.), some more fighting and finally the end with an epilogue.  
> I hope I can finish this story before January. Let's hope and pray.
> 
> *Sacrifices chicken pizza to the muse*  
> *Another case of pleading*  
> Okay, on with the story now.
> 
> My beta love to Sera Neko-Chan, who edited it asap and made this early update possible :*  
> My love to Puja. And hugs and kisses to WinchesterGranger for whom this chapter is a reward for finishing her stubborn, Bog-monster like essay.

* * *

 

Abraxas didn't remove his eyes away from  _the_  woman until the car turned a corner and she was out of his sight. He settled into his seat and thought about the swap that had happened right under Tom's nose.

_'_ _When had Tom become so unobservant? Was he pretending or did he really not notice it?'_

Abraxas didn't mention it to Tom, who was contemplating how to ruin another woman's life. Honestly, what Tom was planning to do really didn't make him feel bad. This wouldn't be the first woman he had ruined and this wouldn't be the last woman he would destroy. Tom had a habit of…playing with his gambits. Myrtle, Parkinson, that cougar whats-her-name Helga's descendant, the numerous 'pawns' on his chessboard and his latest- Bellatrix Black- the infamous heir to the Black family.

Abraxas counted himself as one of very few who had not been played with by Tom. In fact, Tom was the one who had rescued him.

* * *

_It was P.E class but Abraxas didn't dare to remove his t-shirt. The wound had reopened sometime before and blood had started seeping out sluggishly. He could feel his t-shirt stick to the drying blood and getting stained. He_   _had been caned very badly by Father last night. Apparently, he had managed to piss off that old sadist over something that really wasn't his fault. Father had smashed his favourite crystal tumbler the weekend before and now it had struck him that it was missing. Enter a night of caning his son to the point where the boy faints on the carpet of the study_ _,_ _staining it with his blood._

_Abraxas sighed and with difficulty, tried to walk away from the locker room. A delicate game of badminton was going-on on the court. Fancy games of the fancy people, a small hit here and a small return swipe from there. That's all. No heart-stopping smashes, no adrenaline pumping blows, no running around the court like a hyper rabbit. Nope, it was simply a sports fashion show_ _performed_ _by the girls. The boys were up next- at least they tried to play. But today he was in no shape to play. He looked around for the teacher and tried to slip out of there when a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him from getting away._

_Abraxas, tiredly, turned around to face the boy who prevented his escape. However he came face to face with Tom Riddle- straight A's and overall good boy—oh he forgot—the Prefect too._

_"_ _You are going to bunk this class again?" Riddle asked him in a neutral tone._

_"_ _Depends_ _on whether_ _you will report me," Abraxas snarked back._

_Riddle didn't say anything_ _else_ _but stared_ _intently_ _at him. Abraxas wasn't one to step back so he stared back at him. Flint black eyes clashed with steel grey. It was as if they were judging each other for something._

_Riddle was the one to break the contact; he then removed his jacket and handed it to him._

_"_ _The blood is showing. I would suggest you go to the school nurse. She is nice and doesn't babble," Riddle suggested._

_Abraxas merely nodded in response. Riddle then walked away_ _,_ _but not before glancing back to check if he kept his jacket. And Abraxas knew why Riddle did that. He knew the offered jacket wasn't custom made_ _,_ _unlike his_ _own_ _\- which he had forgotten to bring today as he had spent the night out in the courtyard of the house. He_ _hadn't been able to_ _bear staying inside_ _the_ _hellhole that happened to be his house._

_But this jacket meant more than the Italian leather jackets hanging in his wardrobe. In a private school_ _for the rich and influential_ _, this jacket was like a warm hug from a friend._

_He had gratefully taken the jacket and merely draped it over his back_ , _which was screaming in pain as he twisted a little to_ _put_ _the garment_ _on_ _. He_ _whined in pain as_ _he felt his shirt, which was stuck to his skin_ _courtesy_   _of_ _the dried blood, pull at the_   _reopened wounds._

_Yes_ _, a visit to the school nurse was a_ _most certainly a_ _necessity now. He wanted to trust that boy for once. If it_   _turned out_ _that_ _Riddle_ _had_ _lied, Abraxas knew_ _plenty of_ _ways to ruin a guy's life._

* * *

That had been in eighth grade when Tom had literally saved his back. Abraxas still sported those scars as a reminder that he had been weak only because he had been young. The first thing he had done when he graduated from school was kill his father. Yeah, he had killed him but Tom had helped create the perfect crime scene- the addict father dying in the highs of the drugs from an overdose. It had been really easy mixing helluva fatal and flawed drugs in Father's usual bottle. He had often been drunk long before he hit the bar of the house.

The next morning the housekeeper had been the one to find the body. Abraxas hadn't shed tears. Who does for an abusive Father? There had been much clamour over the death. After all, it wasn't just a sadist who had died, he had been a business tycoon, who owned the Malfoy Transports and Shipping Inc. The owner of a company, whose net worth crossed millions.

And Abraxas had been of legal age, but not nearly experienced enough to handle such a huge company. So for the time being, the boards had decided that Septimus would be the representative for Abraxas. He didn't know how Tom had managed but he had brought in Randolph Lestrange as Abraxas's guardian until he got the reins of the company in his hand. That had secured Abraxas' future. He didn't have to look behind after that. But he never forgot what Tom had done for him. Later he had found where the thought to protect another person's future had sprung from in Tom's mind. He was grateful for it. Tom had turned out to be so much more for him- an ally, a confidant, a partner, a friend and now…a brother.

He was the one who witnessed the creation of the Knights of Walpurgis- a group that consisted the best Hogwarts could provide. The political tycoon and former Minister Randolph Lestrange, Evan Rosier the underground big boss, estate tycoon Alfred Avery, Heptus Mulciber the steel and iron manufacturing tycoon and criminal lawyer Theodoros Nott. The six of them, later, became the inner circle of the Death Eaters.

They had shed their blood, sweat and tears to establish the absolute control over the city. If the government was the skin of Hogwarts then the Death Eaters were the veins. Life hadn't been better since then. Their 'organisation' had grown and grown with thousands of people working under them. They had everything but a challenge. And that became the downfall of Tom. His mind is sharp and his intelligence was something that, sometimes, scared even Abraxas. Tom took merely ten years to regain everything that was supposed to be his inheritance and much more. Now he sat upon his throne, doing nothing all day but play with people's emotions and some people's heart for fun and for his benefit. Tom was in his element when he was challenged.

Abraxas stole a look at Tom, who was sitting opposite to him in the car, and saw the long-lost look of anticipation and plotting on his face. So, did Tom know she was bluffing or did he not? Should he talk to Tom about it?

The new business provided some really good quality drugs. They didn't even kill anyone unlike theirs' did. Abraxas gave a mental chuckle. Tom had really let the drugs business slip down the drain. Abraxas wanted to let this new business, that the Granger woman had started, foster healthily. He could overtake it any day he wanted. For the time being, at least his brother would be kept entertained.

"You seem deep in thoughts, Abraxas?" Tom asked, halting Abraxas' train of thought.

"Nothing special. Just the usual," Abraxas answered vaguely.

"I need to talk to our rat in the Police Department. Remind me," Tom ordered Abraxas.

"You do know I am not your assistant," Abraxas said, his eyes shining with mirth.

"But you do get paid like one," Tom said with a smirk.

Abraxas said nothing more but nodded and pulled out his phone to set the agents in motion to get their rat to visit the Riddle Mansion today.

Abraxas didn't mind the woman putting a slight dent in their dealings. Her presence had already lifted Tom's spirit; a leeway can be given to her…only after he was done testing her.

* * *

That day before had taken a toll on Hermione's mind. She remained as paranoid as a cat with a cucumber near it. She got a freaking strain crink in her neck for the number of times she looked behind her. But she waved it off as a result of the close encounter with the Death Eaters the day before. She was up to her neck with paperwork. That face off with the henchmen in the Three Broomsticks hadn't gone unnoticed. Although Madam Rosmerta had spoken well of her, Hermione still had to fill the 'necessary' papers.

Hermione was so busy with her work that she had completely forgotten that today was the day when Tom Riddle, the open secret sponsor of the Death Eaters, was going to take Hermione out for lunch. It wasn't until Padma came to her cabin to ask what lunch Hermione would prefer, that Hermione realised she had a lun—business lunch with Tom Riddle. She told Padma she had lunch plans and looked at her watch.

Only an hour was left to a business lunch with the man who's heavily suspected of being in ties with the Death Eaters. Some even tell he's the boss of the group. But Intel and poor Ginny who was the first-hand victim of the same has it that Voldemort looks nothing like Tom Riddle. They said that he was hideous, pale and somewhat… noseless. Hermione always wondered how can someone be noseless? Even Ginny had mentioned a noseless and eyed eyes guy. Voldemort wasn't a golem born out of a witch's cauldron now, was he?

Hermione shook her head at the path her thoughts her going. Thirty minutes of work then she'll take a trip to the washroom to freshen up. And Ginny turned up in her chamber in the meantime.

"Heard you had a lunch date," Ginny said taking a seat in front of Hermione.

"How in the world did you find out about it?" Hermione stared at Ginny suspiciously. Hermione hadn't told anyone about the date. She knew if the boys knew about this, they would have never let her go alone.

"I was hoping to have lunch with you. But I go to the cafeteria to check if they have something good and I find Padma hadn't placed your lunch order today. So lunch date," Ginny concluded.

"It could have been anything. I could have packed my lunch from home," Hermione countered.

"Hermione, you are a snacks cook and a nutrition-conscious person. You would never make a greasy burger lunch for yourself. Besides, you don't have enough time during the weekdays to…make a leisure lunch. So spill," Ginny deduced rather skilfully.

"I must be getting awfully predictable," Hermione muttered as she packed things in their respective places.

"Nope," Ginny popped the 'P' in the end. "I just know you far better than you know yourself. Besides, I work with police. I am supposed to have brains, alright?" she joked.

Hermione chuckled at that. "I have a business lunch."

"Gods, it feels like pulling a tooth out of a camel's mouth. With whom, Hermione?" Ginny demanded, frustrated at Hermione's tight-lipped nature.

"Tom Riddle."

"To—Riddle? As in the suspected sponsor of the Death Eaters Riddle?" Ginny asked, shocked.

Hermione nodded.

"You are not…an idiot," Ginny said with a pause.

Hermione bowed her head. "Thank you for noticing."

Ginny nodded in reply to the bow. "So tell me what arcane reason you have for having a business lunch with  _Tom_ Riddle."

"It wouldn't be arcane if I told you."

"Smartass, I need the reason to save your arse."

"Intel."

"Makes sense. Just be careful of the food. In case of emergency, dial—"

"Your number and you'll swoop in like a witch on a broom."

"Yes."

"Thank you for your advice, O Wise One. Any other advice for me?"

"Lemme get my makeup kit. You need to dress to kill."

Hermione looked down at her attire of grey with deep silver diamond pattern jumpsuit. "I think your advice is bootless. My dress is perfect."

"Your make up is lacking, that's what I meant."

"Oh."

"Oh."

* * *

Hermione felt that she was dolled up. She had mascara,  _light_  eyeshadow, eyeliner- all these on her eye only. Then there were two different types of crème and serum or plain sticky water as Hermione liked to call it. Followed by skin coloured sticks for contouring (!) and that's when Hermione snatched a baby wipe and wiped her face. Ginny's T-Rex screech didn't deter Hermione from wiping it all off.

"Why!?"

"Because it is a business lunch, not a date, Ginny! Just eyeliner and some sunscreen and a lip touch-up are more than enough!"

Ginny huffed and did what Hermione told her to, though, with a scowl.

"I hope you are happy with your decision."

"I am. I am extremely happy. Now off you go. I don't want any DE spotting you."

"Aye, aye, Captain."

In mere five minutes, a man knocked on her doors. After allowing him in, a man in a black suit told her that a car was waiting for her. She nodded and got out of her chamber and locked it behind her when the man touched her lower back to guide her out. She moved away from his wandering hand and motioned him to walk in front of her.

"You seem to be guiding me. So, go ahead," Hermione suggested firmly.

This seemed to displease the man but he did what he was requested. When she got in the car, she noticed how that man's attention lingered on her behind and her chest. Her buoyant mood dipped sharply.

When the car stopped, she promptly got out of the car before the horrible man sitting in the front seat got out to open her door. She quickly got out and made her way towards the restaurant. The man quickly caught up with her and was walking uncomfortably close to her. Hermione barely noticed the name of the restaurant and made her way to the maître de asking for Riddle, trying to out-walk the man.

The maître de showed her the way by which time that horrible man was back again. He made to go near her but she shot off like an arrow. Hermione had already spotted Riddle.

When she reached the table where Riddle was sitting like he owned the place, he got out of his seat and like a gentleman, he pulled out the chair and made sure she sat down comfortably.

Hermione smiled at his manners and placed her purse on the side of the table. Hermione turned her head to find the man approaching the table where she was sitting. She couldn't help herself and asked away.

"Is that man also going to accompany us to lunch?"

"I sure hope not. He's merely my bodyguard who was supposed to escort you. I noticed he didn't do that," Riddle said as he jerked his chin upwards. Out of the corner of her eyes, Hermione noticed the man was going away.

"He was agog in his manners. That unnerved me if I am honest," Hermione answered.

"Oh?"

"I am not used to such…gestures," Hermione supplied weakly given she was unnerved by that man's behaviour. Yes, she was a policewoman but still…

"Scabior has this problem of understanding etiquettes. I hope you forgive him for that. He is…a slow learner," Riddle explained. But there was a glint in his eyes that made Hermione believe that this Scabior's behaviour had irked Riddle.

Hermione nodded and took a sip of her water.

"Shall we order our meal and talk?" Riddle suggested with a smile that did something to her.

_'_ _Mum and Dad would love seeing those perfect set of teeth,'_ Hermione thought as she nodded in affirmative.

It wasn't until Hermione opened the menu card that she realised that she was sitting at the restaurant, The Emerald, owned by Mr Riddle himself. And she mentioned as much.

"I thought I would like gaining some bonus points by flaunting," Riddle replied with a sheepish smile though his eyes didn't soften. Not one bit.

"This is a beautiful place," Hermione replied as she took in the settings of the restaurant. It was an opulent place no doubt, with the fine lace coverings on the table tops and the equally fine china with vibrant blue patterns etched on it. The lighting was muted but good enough to see what you are eating. The decorations were very classy with paintings and tapestry dotting the walls and abstract artworks placed on small altar around the floor.

"Thank you. Though I must say the beauty of this place pales in front of you," Riddle said while a waiter came to take their orders.

Hermione blushed good-heartedly. She still hasn't gotten around taking a compliment. "As much as I am glad for this fantastic lunch, didn't you have something to talk about?"

"Can't two people just have a nice conversation over lunch?" Riddle said that with a wink. He actually winked at her. This lunch was turning to be something she hadn't expected. Why would someone like Riddle…flirt with  _her_?

"I can't believe you tricked me for a date," Hermione replied with a small smile though it was clearly seen in her eyes that she was not impressed. "Mr Riddle—"

"Please, call me Tom," Riddle urged.

"Okay. Tom, we both know our time is very precious. So why beat around the bush? What is it that you actually wanted to talk about?"

Ridd—Tom sighed. It wasn't until then that Hermione had actually looked at him. That errant lock was still dangling on his forehead making her fingers itch yet again. His sharp cheekbones and that defined jaws made the lusty feminine side of her purr with appreciation. But what caught her eyes was the spectacles framed the fathomless black eyes that were staring at her. He removed his spectacles and rubbed the bridge of his nose and wore them back again.

"Well…to be very honest, I wanted to know about my—the books," Tom tried to explain. At Hermione's blank look, he added, "The raid on The Diary? That's my library."

"Oh…Oh. Well…" Hermione fumbled now. Books were such personal things to talk about in her world and here she was sitting in front of the man whose library has been given to her. "I…don't think I'll be able to return them to you. Police confiscated them, they were going to auction them off but they know how much I love books so they gave it to me instead."

Tom just shook his head. "It's okay. No need to justify. It was my fault for trusting the wrong person."

Sadness and frustration were pouring off him. But when he looked up, all those emotions quickly got replaced by a mask of a cool and collected face.

_'_ _Silly of me to become sentimental over books. I can get the first editions of all that I've lost to the raid in a day if I want. I can't believe I let my emotions slip,'_ Tom was busy chastising himself.

"I can't believe that they were making meth in the basement where the antique and first editions were kept. I've sent them to the bookkeepers for a check-up and maintenance," Hermione said angrily as she hated the abuse of books.

_'_ _Ah, so books get her going. That's something I can work with,'_ Tom thought as he took in the flush of Hermione's face.  _'I wonder where else her passion lies.'_

"I am glad to hear," Tom allowed his true emotions to leak onto his face. This woman appreciated honestly. So honest and straight game it would be…with just a generous dash of the Riddle twist. He couldn't help the smirk that came on his face but he quickly made that a lopsided smile. "I just tried to share my treasure with this city. And it repaid me like this." His tone turned sardonic.

"I can't tell you how sorry I am to hear that," Hermione said earnestly.

Soon their lunch of baked lobster tail and shrimp Caesar salad for Hermione with steak and something for Riddl—Tom arrived on the table. The lunch smelled lovely and Hermione stopped thinking about the books for the moment.

"You must have one of these," Tom said as he served Hermione some of those twists.

"And what are these?" Hermione questioned, looking at something that looked suspiciously like asparagus wrapped with something.

"It's asparagus bacon twists. Healthy thoughts wrapped with guilt," Tom replied with a flash of that grin that Hermione knew had floored many women. To be honest, she wasn't an exception but she was strong enough to not melt into a puddle of hormones. Gods, she needs to get laid.

Hermione had expected banal talks in this lunch with a rich businessman busy talking about his wealth and flaunting himself like a peacock in front of her. But this was the complete opposite. She was interested in what he was talking about- history, ancient politics. Why they even argued about why Viking society was the best society that could have been.

She had gone to the date with the idea of finding dirt on Mr Riddle. But instead, she found herself admiring his intellect, his razor sharp wit and that dry humour of his. He was charming and polite. It was a pleasure watching him eat, the graceful way he used his knife and fork, and that illegal jawbone protruded against his tight skin when he chewed with his mouth  _closed_! If Hermione was honest at that moment, she would have accepted that she had developed a major crush on the man sitting in front of her.

They were currently talking about her organisation, SPEW and the work it did for the under-aged workers. When the waiter came, Tom ordered desserts and looked into her eyes, listening to every word she said. He seemed to be hanging on to every word of her.

Soon their meal was over and they got up from their seat. The maître de handed them their jackets and Tom helped her wear her jacket. She could swear that he ran his fingers on her neck as he removed her hair trapped under the collar of the jacket. He smiled at her and escorted her to the car.

"I had a wonderful time with you, Hermione," Tom commented as the car started moving.

"I had a lovely time as well, Tom," Hermione said. But unknown to her, her face reddened with a blush.

"I hope I can look forward to another such a...date," Tom purred.

Hermione knew he was trying to get into her good books but damn it all, he was already on the cover of her good book.

"I look forward to it too."

Tom nodded and watched as Hermione got into the car and sped away to its destination.

"Who was that?" Bellatrix asked, coming up beside Tom as soon as Hermione was out of sight.

Tom hadn't noticed when this clingy woman was back. She must have been here the whole time and came out to stake her supposed claim on him.

"You will remember your place, Bellatrix Lestrange," Tom replied in a voice that could chill a kettle of boiling water.

"I am sorry, My Lord," Bellatrix snivelled.

Tom rolled his eyes and turned away to go to his office inside the restaurant. As he climbed up the stair, Tom heard Bellatrix follow him. She seemed to be hell-bent on spoiling his good mood. He allowed her following till he reached the door of his office. He turned around abruptly and his arm shot out to grab Bellatrix's throat. He pushed her against the wall, choking her.

"Looks like you really have forgotten your place," Tom seethed while increasing the pressure on her throat.

Bellatrix coughed and gasped for breath. "I—"

Tom tsk-ed. "Don't tempt me to take your life with my own hand. I would  _not_  hesitate, you know that." Bellatrix frantically nodded her head in agreement.

"Of late you're becoming a hindrance for me," Tom said, looking thoughtful as he contemplated Bellatrix's fate.

"My Lord!" Bellatrix gasped with a limited amount of air available to her.

"Do you want to become worthy in my eyes again, dear Bella?" Tom looked into her eyes earnestly.

Bellatrix nodded her head eagerly.

"Then come back drenched in Scabior's blood." Tom's eyes had this psychotic glint that made Bella go weak in the knees. Though that could have been the lack of sufficient air in her lungs, she was convinced otherwise.

"Yes, My Lord," she gasped out and Tom released her throat.

She rubbed her sore throat and knew it would bruise badly. But she would wear it like a badge of honour…and a memento of when her Lord touched her aggressively.

Tom backed away from her and went to open his door when he stopped and turned to look at Bella.

"Oh, and Bella?"

"Yes, My Lord?"

"Send in Abraxas when you go out,"

"Yes…My Lord." And she quickly went away.

Tom rolled his eyes. That woman had some twisted concept of sexuality and what wrapped sycophant. But at least she was obedient to the T.

He walked up to the wine cabinet on one side of his office and pulled out a crystal flask filled with the finest whiskey alongside some fancy crystal tumbler that one of his followers had gifted him. Tom took his seat behind his ornate mahogany desk and poured himself a drink. It wasn't long until he heard a sharp knock on his door.

"Come in, Abraxas."

Abraxas came in and took a seat in the plush seats in front of Tom. He settled in and pulled at his wrist to check on his Rolex watch.

Tom smirked. "Yes, yes. I know you are busy. But I needed a status report."

"Of?" Abraxas asked in his typical deadpan voice.

"How is our spy today?" Tom drawled, taking a generous sip of his drink.

"Lavender is interning there now. She has infiltrated their ranks. It isn't easy although she's on her way to make headway."

"I hope she does that. Or else it'll be a pity to see that pretty face ripped apart by Greyback here."

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review if you please! Your reviews make my day.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real Life's been really demanding. In case you all didn't know, I'm currently undergoing an internship. And the thing is... they didn't allow me to bring me my laptop :(  
> Still, I'm somehow trying to make it work with my phone and some restricted internet access.  
> The next chapter of YLIMD at your service. Working on the 8th one now, hope to get it done soon.  
> Also, big big thanks to WinchesterGranger without whom this chapter probably wouldn't have seen the light of the day.  
> Loads of love to SeraNeko-Chan. She's the bestest beta.  
> Thank you sticking around!!  
> For previews, update news, manips, please visit my facebook page that goes by the name of QueenVulca.  
> XOXOXO

* * *

 

The moonlight filtered through the lacy curtains of the room. The girl sleeping next to him was exhausted beyond her mind. Abraxas smiled with a certain male pride. Yet, it didn’t bring him any satisfaction. Yes, his body was sated, but his heart was yearning for something he knew no one could provide.

He knew he was being sappy but damn. That dreadful woman had destroyed love for him. Yes, he had a rough edge. He was technically a murderer, had lived a bad life but hell, he was still human. So when he thought he had found his one, he was head over heels in love with her.

Marishka.

Oh, how she had deceived him. Pretending to be a common girl with a heart of gold, but all she had wanted from him was the money. It’s always the money. And being a lonely young man, he trusted her at face value. If only he had been a little more suspicious, if only he had kept his eyes and ears open. If only, if only.

Abraxas rubbed his face with his hands, the earlier buzz of bliss fading away entirely. It seemed like that woman had spoiled it for him forever . That whore. He still remembered that awful day as if it had happened only yesterday.

_They had been in a relationship for about a year and the night before, Abraxas discovered a pregnancy test in Mari's bathroom. It was positive. He was so incredibly happy. Sure, he was young and had only just learned the ropes of his business, but hey, a family never pulled anyone down. It only strengthened a person. He decided to propose her before she announced her pregnancy. Otherwise she would always second guess his proposal. Would always doubt that he proposed her just because she was with his child. He had been thinking of taking their relationship to the next level. There couldn't be a better time than this._

_Sure, he hadn't wanted to become a dad so soon, but he didn't mind really. He was going to be a father! Abraxas almost ran down the hallway, the ring box jiggling inside his pocket. He knew Mari was supposed to be at her penthouse at that time. He had wanted to surprise her with this proposal. It was quite late already. So Abraxas had quietly opened the door and had quickly made his way to the bedroom when he heard the undoubtable moans and groans of passion. Abraxas had immediately gone into denial. Those were definitely cries of pain not...not pleasure. Why pleasure? Wha… He had stopped thinking by then._

_He had stridden in and flung open the bedroom door only to find a platinum blond man runting away into the woman Abraxas had wanted to propose to. He had become numb. As if someone had plunged him into ice cold water in the middle of a blizzard. Frozen. His heart… ached with betrayal. That chill in his bones turned into raging inferno of anger. His cousin, Lucius, and his fiancee had just noticed him._

_“This isn't…” Abraxas didn't want to hear the lame excuses the coupling, characterless people in front of him were sprouting. He reached behind his back where his gun usually was kept only to come up empty handed._

_Would Uncle Septimus mind terribly if he lost his only son? He probably would. Not an aggressive person, Septimus often took care of the monotonous meetings and paperworks. He was honest and worked just fine. Septimus would be a loss Abraxas didn't want to incur. Besides there was the question of Narcissa, his lovely sister in law. She would be devastated to lose her husband- a manwhore or not._

_Then there was little Draco. Manwhore or not, Lucius loved his son more than anything in this world. Ergo, Lucius lived._

_But there was nothing stopping him from finishing Marishka. Nothing. She was nothing, but a liability. She could have had everything. She could have been the heiress of the Malfoy Co. But she chose be a slag. A cheater. And dare he say, a heartbreaker. He would take pleasure from his kill._

And pleasure Abraxas had taken. He recalled how she begged and pleaded for mercy. He recalled how she laid the whole blame on Lucius, how he was the one who corrupted her, manipulated her so that he could be the only heir of Malfoy Co. She spilled the beans without any hesitation. How Lucius planned Abraxas’ murder, how Lucius had planned the takeover, how Lucius had planted Narcissa’s old pregnancy test in Marishka’s bathroom. What Lucius hadn't expected was the way Abraxas would take the news of being a father.

He had thought Abraxas would run like he had done with Narcissa despite the fact he was married to her. Abraxas scoffed.

Gutless, Lucius always was the gutless one. A coward, a sycophant, a bootlicker with a dangerous desire to be on the top of the world.

He recalled the way her eyes lost their light and became dull, unseeing as he kept on choking her. The soft skin of her neck had bruised so badly. The same skin that he had once lavished his kisses upon. Her face, which he had vowed would always sport a smile, was blotched and swollen, tracked with salty tears. The petite hands that had caressed him when he needed comfort had raked his hands with the desperation of a dying woman. He remembered how calmly Tom had handed him his monogrammed handkerchief to wipe his own blood off his hands. He didn't nothing to stave off the scars; he wanted a reminder.

Abraxas looked down at his hands and squinted at them trying to look for the thin, shiny marks. Never again. Sleep was all but gone by now. Abraxas sighed and got up to get dressed. The lacy curtains seemed to suffocate him now. Some late night aimless driving would suit him fine. Besides, tomorrow was a big day for him.

As he went out of the house, his phone vibrated. He unlocked it to find a text message from Tom. At two in the night. Did that man ever sleep?

**If you are awake, I could use your company. -TMR**

At least Abraxas now had a destination in mind while he drove. Abraxas soon reached the looming Riddle Manor and drove through the ornate wrought iron gate that swung open as soon as he arrived. He was so accustomed to driving through the driveway that he didn’t even spare a glance at the lush, recently pruned hedges. The trees that lined the driveway looked like sentries on duty rather presenting the image of tranquility and permanence of nature. It wasn’t long until Abraxas was sitting in his favourite seat, in front of the fireplace of Tom’s private study, with a glass of whiskey.

“We met in the afternoon,” Abraxas said, taking a sip of his golden brown drink. Tom didn’t answer but sipped his own drink instead.

“So, what brought you upon on opening the finest bottle of Firewhisky?” Abraxas asked, trying to pry a response from Tom.

“A toast in the name of my growing hold over the Police Force,” Tom replied after a long pause.

“Ahh...Ms Granger,” Abraxas said pretending as if he just realised what it was all about. Tom cocked his eyebrow at him in question. “No, no. It isn’t like I don’t understand takeovers. It’s more like I’ve never seen you take these kind of steps for a take over.”

“Variety is the spice of life, Malfoy.”

“Face it, Riddle. You went out of your way to add this spice,” Abraxas said cheekily.

“That remains to be seen.” Tom and his denial ran longer than The Nile.

Abraxas let this drop off...this once. There were things more important to discuss about than a possible lovelife.

* * *

 

“Good morning, Hermione!” Ginny cheerfully greeted Hermione as she entered Hermione's cabin.

“Good morni-- what are you wearing?” Hermione abruptly asked Ginny.

Ginny was wearing a short and tight, black pencil shirt with white blouse that was straining against her breasts. Pairing with strappy red heels. Hermione didn't know if she should thanks the heavens above that those were plain red block heels rather than stilettos.

“How do I look?” Ginny asked with a sway in her hips flaunting her shapely hips.

“You look sexy enough to be ravished.”

Ginny beamed at the compliment.

“Though the question remains: who would ravish you?”

“Maybe the question is who I would ravish.”

“Who?”

“Why, Harry!” Hermione had been suspecting something along this line. Now that Ginny confirmed it, her heart sank.

Ginny was the only girl who went out of her way to be friends with her and Hermione hated the fact that she had to break the news about Harry to Ginny. Hermione bit her lips in worry. Life never taught you how to deal with anything like this!

“Ginny…” Hermione started softly. “There’s something you need to know about Harry.”

. . .

“I can't believe you didn't tell me this before! Gods! I've been making a fool out of myself for sooo long!” Ginny whined, sitting shotgun beside Hermione.

They had decided to check up on their newest outlet for fun ‘items’ and were on their way there. And while on the way, Hermione decided to break the news about Harry. Harry felt really awkward when the women in the office hit on him, flirted with him. This was the least Hermione could do; one less woman after Harry.

“Harry didn't want this to be a public knowledge. You know how the media is,” Hermione tried to console an extremely embarrassed Ginny.

“STILL!”

“Sorry,” Hermione squeaked.

It was better to show your belly to an angry Ginny than try to reason with her.

“So…” That was a heavily pregnant 'so’. It was bulging with questions that could pop out any moment. Hermione decided to go for an immediate C-section.

“I don't know, Ginny. I never asked.”

“Did he never…?”

“He realized it quite recently.”

“Oooooooooh. Hot and handsome fresh in the market.”

“That is derogatory at so many levels!”

“Why are all the good-looking ones either gay or married?”

“Because of unholy thoughts like yours, Ginny.”

“Oi, you see that?” Ginny asked abruptly, staring in the rearview mirrors.

“I've been noticing this for the past few days. I'm sure the Death Eaters have put someone on my tail,” Hermione replied as she spotted the black sedan following her.

“Hermione, have they…?”

“No, I think not. They are more likely to stalk me because of the case that I'm presently working on.”

“The missing teacher case?”

“Yeah. But that turned into the murdered teacher case.”

“Oh so those clues--”

“Someone thought it would be funny to send the clues.”

Ginny shook her head. “Psychopaths.”

Hermione nodded her head.

The two of them reached their destination and parked the car at the lot. It was clear they had been followed the whole way there. So they had to take steps.

“Let’s hit the parlour, Ginny.”

“Oh, it's been ages since I sported your curls.” Hermione just smirked in reply. Their next stop was the parlour.

. . .

They didn’t stay for long; all they did was getting their hair fixed and exchanged their clothes. Ginny sported a curly brown hair wig and business formals; although she fidgeted about, pulling at the tight dress, she looked damn well in the attire. Hermione, on the other hand, was an eye sore with her fiery red hair and casual dress of a loose trousers and Man-U t-shirt under a practical jacket. Neither looked comfortable but no one complained.

“I’ll drop you off at Sirius’ liquor shop. Then I’ll mislead them, okay?” Ginny went over their plan.

“Yeah. Then I’ll catch a cab and go check on a crime scene. Don’t wait up for me. Today’s gonna be a long day for me.”

“Got it, boss!” Hermione smiled in response. Ginny got in the car and drove to the nearest pub that they frequently went to.

Hermione knew the staff there allowed her to take the back door route for ‘special’ purposes. She would be taking that way out. When they reached there, Hermione dressed as Ginny got out the car and waved Ginny bye. Ginny drove away and Hermione saw the black sedan follow her car. Amateurs.

Hermione shook her head and made her way towards Sirius’ shop. It was just a block away. It wasn’t long when she reached there It didn’t take long to reach it. Sirius was at the shop personally overlooking the special sale.

It was a little crowded that day but Hermione assured Sirius to take of the customers; she could talk to him any other day. Hermione took in the transactions. Of late, the potency of the fun stuff was being reduced. It wasn’t as addictive as heroin rather somewhat along the lines of nicotine. After the quick visit, Hermione call Ginny.

“Ducklings are still following me. Route’s clear. Enjoy your crime scene visit.”

“Dinner’s on me.”

“Deal.”

When Hermione got an all clear message from Ginny, she came out of the shop. It was pretty curious seeing how the typical liquor bar had turned into a well organised business centre, Hermione wondered. They had finally gotten their hundred percent natural fun ‘stuff’ in the market and the people had taken to it well. She still refused to call them drugs because they were not.

They were merely things as usual as like alcohol. But most importantly, they were regulated, had quality standards and are were not sold to anyone over the age of eighteen. She had made sure that without the proof of an ID, no one could buy it from their exclusive stores. It was the of Hermione’s brilliant mind idea to sell their product exclusively at the liquor stores owned by the Blacks, the Weasleys and now a new Grangers’ shop that sold luxury wines. In the last few months, her team had been able to disrupt the delivery of the mink foxes and ermines who were to be skinned for their fur. Around a thousand such animals were had been rescued.

Hermione had never felt so proud about doing her job. Her city was safe and the animals were safe. Nobody under her watch would ever be insecure about their safety again-whether it’s humans or animals. After getting rid of the ridiculous redhead wig, Hermione sat in the cab she hailed from the street. She failed to see a couple of cars following her. They were as yellow as an ordinary cab, but it sure as hell wasn’t the normal model. It was fast and powerful built to maintain a chase. They were built to maintain a chase, and bulletproof on top.

Hermione was fiddling with her phone when her cab screeched to a sudden halt. Hermione’s phone fell onto the floor and her head hit the seat in front of her.

“What the hell!” she cursed as she bent down to retrieve her phone.

She heard a door open and the protest of the driver. She quickly sat up and slammed the child lock of her door but before she could slam the other lock on her other side the door was wrenched open and a blonde man with a gun pointing at her climbed in and sat beside her.

“You have two options,” the blonde she recognised as a Malfoy drawled. “You either go out on a dinner with me or this driver dies,” he jerked his chin at the quivering driver who was begging his captors for mercy.

“That’s really forward of you. Are you sure Mr Riddle wouldn’t mind you asking me out?” Hermione replied sassily.

Abraxas gave a mirthless laugh, “Leave, Mr Riddle’s concern onto me.”

“Okay, dinner’s on your tab then. But let me tell you I’m allergic to eggplant and sometimes, prawns. So… order accordingly,” Hermione replied as she frantically kept pressing the buttons on her phone that was in her hand.

“I will keep that in mind,” Abraxas answered, offering his hand to Hermione.

Hermione made to put her phone in her handbag when he interrupted, “Uh-uh. The phone, the handbag and your hand.”

Hermione let out an angry huff and placed them all in his outstretched free hand while the gun was still pointed at her.

As soon as the items were in his hand, Abraxas passed them to the guy nearest to him and then offered his hand to her. She placed her hand in his and, like a gentleman with a gun pointed towards a feisty lady, he helped her out of the cab and led her to the car that was following her.

“Nice colour,” Hermione commented noting that the car’s Audi emblem.

“All part of a day’s work,” Abraxas replied with missing a beat.

The other guys almost three standing out of the car and Hermione knew there were more with all of them armed to the neck. Resistance would have been futile.

Hermione sat in the passenger’s seat and looked out of the window taking in the landscape to spot where she was going. Abraxas noticed her scrutiny and supplied the location instead of keeping her guessing.

“We are going to the White Peacock restaurant. Not some obscure warehouse.” His tone was teasing with just the hint of a promise that he could hurt her whenever he wanted to.

“Because asking out a girl with flowers in a mannerful way is so mainstream,” Hermione sneered.

“Because it was the only way of getting you to talk about…certain business that you seem to be carrying out,” Abraxas replied acridly.

Hermione shut her mouth after that. Had he somehow found out about their special products? She quickly disguised her rising panic and put on her mask of flippant attitude. She didn’t say anything, just sat and scowled at Abraxas.

Abraxas didn’t look affected by her attitude. He kept driving till they reached the restaurant. He stopped the car and got out first and was quickly at her side, opening the car door and holding out his hand. Hermione shot him a look. Why so chivalrous?

Hermione didn’t even pay attention as the maitre de escorted them to a secluded part of the restaurant. She was bubbling with questions and couldn’t hold it in anymore when Abraxas acted like a perfect gentleman. He led her in, pulled out her chair, made sure she had sat down well. “What’s with you all and manners?”

“Been raised a gentleman,” Abraxas quickly supplied.

“Even Tom?”

“Well…he chose to be one.” What followed next was a little awkward and terse silence. At least that time was occupied by them deciding their order. Thank god, he wasn’t a git who ordered her food for her. As soon as the waiter took their orders, Abraxas began questioning her.

“Why did you have to hamper the fur export?” Hermione looked at him as if he had lost his mind when she remembered. Sometime back, Hermione had spearheaded a raid team that saved a couple hundred animals who were going to be ‘harvested’ for their fur.

“Why did you plan on mass murder?” Hermione questioned instead.

“There is a demand, so there is a supply,” Abraxas said, as if that justified the killings.

“Well to answer your question, I saved lives.” Hermione snapped back.

Abraxas leant forward and explained in a chilled voice, “You lost us money. Not just a couple hundred thousand euros. Around a million euros.”

“Just because an animal has better hair than you, it doesn't mean you have to rip it's skin along with its hair to wear them on your body. You don't see my ripping your scalp off just because I like your hair!” Hermione spat.

“Is that why you savagely pulled at my hair during that fight?”

“Heat of the moment. You can't accuse me,” Hermione replied coolly.

“My scalp didn't stop stinging for a long time.”

“Pain shared is pain lessened,” Hermione said smugly.

“I had to get my scalp check by a doctor because of it.”

“Good lords. Where next shall you visit? Doctors for hurt inflated egos.”

Abraxas laughed a real laugh. A first in that evening. They didn’t talk much after that. Quietly, they had their food when Abraxas asked the question that Hermione was dreading. “You are causing us another major loss, aren’t you?”

“I am saving lives. I am a protector of the people. I have vowed to keep this city and its people safe. That’s what I’m doing.” Abraxas smiled at her. A knowing smile that showed that she had gained respect in his eyes. Hermione smiled but then looked out of the window and spotted a black sedan in front of the restaurant.

“As much as I loved our dinner, I'm sorry I have to go. My ride’s here.”

Abraxas just narrowed his eyes at her.

“I've been in this field of work for quite some time. I have backups like this. But thank you for the dinner. It was wonderful.”

“Thank you for cooperating.”

“I’ve said this to Riddle. I will tell this to you too. I have an office. Next time, don’t kidnap me or stalk me. Just call or send a message. Consult me first.” Abraxas nodded and like the gentleman he is, he escorted her to the sedan and watched her go away.

_‘Time for intel analysis,’_ thought Abraxas.

* * *

 

Earlier that day, their department had got another parcel; same like the one Hermione had got. The murderer was taunting them with freaking clues to the missing teacher murder case and they couldn’t do anything about it. It wasn’t that the case was a high profile one but it was a thing of pride that they were getting taunted by a murderer.

Harry entered the tattoo parlour with determination, and noticed a man getting a full body tattoo. He watched with fascination how the inked needle repeated pierced the skin, inking the skin. He, then, noticed how little blood came out from the inked place only to be swiftly wiped away by a tissue. Harry had considered getting a tattoo done with Hermione and Ron for the sake of the adventures they faced together. But at the cost of the repeated scarring?

Harry wondered the pros and cons when he heard "Scared, Potter?"

That voice!

Harry swiftly looked up only to see a heavily tattooed guy with multiple piercings on his eyebrows, ears and a ring on the lip. His blonde hair had green highlights giving his goth look a punk attitude.

"Excuse me? Do I know you?" Harry asked as he watched that guy take him in from his head to his toe.

"I thought I had made quite a lasting impression back at school, Scarhead." Harry narrowed his eyes.

"You call yourself--" Harry asked the tattoo artist instead.

"Bad Faith," that guy replied with a smirk.

_'Bad Faith, bad faith. How would that...'_ Harry ran the word over and over again in his head.

But when Harry looked right into the eye of Bad Faith, he couldn't get rid of the nagging voice in his head that he had seen those eyes somewhere.

"You know, Granger didn't tell my name right to my face, but her face said she recognized me. She was after all the brightest student of her age."

_'That accent, that tone, those eyes.'_

It was when Bad Faith smirked at him, did Harry realise who was standing in front of him. His eyes widened in utter surprise.

Harry couldn't believe it. This! This was what his childhood bully, Draco "My father will hear about it" Malfoy had become!

"Malfoy!" Harry whispered.

"Ten points to Gryffindor." Draco rolled his eyes. Harry looked at Draco Fecking Malfoy once again. He had grown up to be a handsome guy- broad shoulders, tattooed, muscled arms, thin waist, strong legs. Damn… his bully had turned out yummy. But… work is work.

"I'm here about a tattoo."

"Well Potter, I have to say, I didn't peg you for the type."

Harry huffed. "No, not for me I'm looking for a specific tattoo." He then pulled a picture out and handed it to Malfoy.

"It has its charms but I don't think it would sit you. Clean cuts and all. But I don’t think you are the skulls and snakes guy. You...are more like... an embarrassing love symbol on your butt or a bold lion roaring on your shoulder?” Malfoy looked at Harry’s scar and said pointedly, “Maybe something for your head to cover up the nasty scar."

Harry snarled at Malfoy. That bastard always managed to get under his skin. “Yeah, like your tattoos are covering up your attempt at being a target practice of a staple gun. I wonder what your precious daddy dear says every time he sees you.”

Malfoy’s lips thinned at the personal insult and he sneered.

“Now you don’t you---”

“Eleven in the morning, police station. As the last person to have seen to have Ms Burbage, you are to be present for questioning," Harry said in a formal tone with a smug smile.

Malfoy moved right in Harry’s face and hissed angrily. “Fuck you.”

“If you refuse to comply with the police, I have right to bring you in by force,” Harry said, snatching the picture from Malfoy’s face.

Harry pretended to smoothen the paper and put it in his pocket in a dignified manner. All the while not making any move to get away from Malfoy who was huffing angrily in his face.

“Between you and me, let me tell you,” Harry leant in and snarled near Malfoy’s ears, “I can officially fuck you over. And trust me, I will ruin you. The best part, your father shall hear it right from me.” Harry moved away and gave a two fingered salute at Malfoy and walked out.

Draco was shaking with unbridled rage. His fists were turning white as he stared at the retreating back of Harry ‘Fuck Face’ Potter.

Blaise murmured something to his client and stood up; only to go to Draco and whispered loudly, "I need a bath. I'm drenched in the unresolved sexual tension between you and that Potter."

Draco turned his burning inferno of a glare at Blaise and snarled, “Fuck off.” Draco sneered and stomped out of the shop, making a point to slam the door.

Unfortunately, that door had a stopper. So Blaise saw the door slowly creep its way to being closed, not making that satisfying slam at all. His laughter filled the shop. “Get laid, Bad Faith. Probably with that officer!” Blaise shouted out.

Draco turned around and showed Blaise his middle finger, not bothering about the sensible ladies walking past him at all. No wonder their shop had a notorious reputation. 

* * *

 

 

It was late evening when a knock on the door disrupted Tom’s musings. Lately, he spent a little too much time speculating about certain situations. He mustn’t have taken part in the love games for quite some while to be so enthusiastic about the Granger woman. Tom shook off his thoughts. Business first, pleasure later. “Come in,” Tom permitted the visitor outside his office. The rugged face of Antonin came in view. _‘Ah, intel. Now that’s a mood enhancer.’_

Antonin merely nodded his greeting and pulled out a manila out of his jacket pocket.

“The photos would do the talking,” Antonin said as he placed the manila on Tom’s desk.

_‘Looks like messenger brought bad news. But smart messenger. No wonder I still keep him around.’_ Tom pulled a drawer and brought out a wad of cash. He placed it on the table as Antonin quickly grabbed it. Antonin nodded again and Tom dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

He sat up straight in his chair and opened the manila and split its content on the desk. Photographs of Hermione Granger. Her coming out of her house, going to the office, coming out with colleagues, having a merry lunch with her friends- those two guys, sometimes joined in by a redhead woman too.

Her present details were splayed in front of him but what irked him was the most recent photograph of her eating lunch...with Abraxas. And the two of them seemed to be happy about it. Their smiles made something inside Tom twist. He almost crumpled the photo when his irrational anger fled away. Why was he upset about it? It wasn’t like he had planned to date Granger. Then why? _‘_

_Because she was his.’_ A dark, sinister thought murmured in his head.  _‘And Tom Marvolo Riddle doesn’t share.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review if you please!!

**Author's Note:**

> **Review, please. It motivates me and makes my day!**


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